


The Act of Disappearing

by orphan_account



Category: Codename: Kids Next Door
Genre: Gen, Suicidal Ideation, dark stuff like that!, physical and verbal abuse, tw: depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9622106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: At age 15, Wally Beetles is coming to realize that he may not have everything all together like he's wanted people to believe. Overwhelmed by high school and family life, the stable shield around him begins to crack, threatening to bury and suffocate him until he disappears beneath the weight.





	1. one

It was a Tuesday when Wally decided to kill himself. He'd gotten the idea suddenly, while sitting in the back of his family's station wagon. On that particular February day the sky had been clouded over and the air had a distinct chill to it; one that left his very core feeling iced and empty. Wally had always found himself fond of the winter. He enjoyed the prospect of bundling up in layers upon layer. He liked watching Christmas movies with his mother and liked drinking hot chocolate with his father. He liked tossing snowball after snowball at the head of his younger brother, who sometimes enjoyed the engagement of winter warfare, and who other times screamed as if he had been shot with a real bullet, and not just a block of ice. He even liked the sounds and sights and smells of the local mall during the holiday season. The shopping center always seemed to be full of frantic spenders. People who had, yet another year, waited until the very last moment to do their Christmas shopping. Wally liked how noisy and crowded the stores had become. He enjoyed watching people scramble, and he enjoyed the shiny things he found scattered upon every wall. It was his favorite time of year and his favorite season.

He'd watched Frozen for quite possibly the 12th time that week, which left him pondering how he related so much to the storyline of a children's animated musical film. Sometimes Wally felt like he was misunderstood, not just by his family but by everyone around him. The first time he'd watched the film, he rated it a measly 5/10 stars. He liked reviewing movies he watched, even though no one else seemed to show much interest in his opinions. Joey told him it was the best movie in the universe, something that Wally seriously doubted. Later, after probably the fourth viewing, Wally wondered how he could have been so misguided. He would never admit that he had grown extremely fond of the film, not even to himself. He put on his usual mask of indifference whenever the topic came up in conversations, though inside he struggled to hear much other than those infectious tunes. At home, Joey insisted on playing the movie nearly every day that passed. Wally always seemed irritated by this initially, but despite his groans would sit and watch it the entire way through without saying much other than "this is the last time I'm watching this with you, Joe." It never was the last time.

Wally felt like he understood the turmoil that the sisters in the flick had gone through, particularly Elsa, the ice queen. She had closed herself off for so long that she found it hard to open up to others, even her family. When she finally revealed her true self, the others judged and failed to understand. Wally felt that he and Elsa were very similar in those aspects. Though he lacked magical ice powers, he did have a knack for hiding within himself. It wasn't often he showed people what he was really feeling or thinking. Half the time the Australian seriously considered the idea that nobody knew who he really was. Not even his best friends, or his mother. Though they knew a lot about the person he was, he spent a vast majority of time holding up a façade; one weak yet somehow stable enough to fool everyone who looked at it. On the outside, they'd see a tall building (brick? no, maybe concrete, or steel) with a solid foundation, a fresh coat of paint, and not very many windows. The few windows that were there were guarded by bulky men and rabid dogs, none of who would let another soul near at any cost. If one were to look into the windows, they would find that the building wasn't nearly as extravagant and dense as it appeared. Within, the confines were rather weak and empty, and the floorboards seemed to be held together with nothing but chewed gum and some distant hope. Inside, Wally felt like the inside of a bruised banana. On the outside, his skin was so thick and so yellow nobody could really tell the damage was there. Not unless they poked and prodded enough, but then again not many people were interested in poking and prodding bananas.

And, much like Elsa, Wally didn't seem to be quite as affected by the frigid temperatures as the rest of his family. His parents, though themselves fond of the holiday season, seemed to detest the inconvenience that was Ohio's winters. In Australia, Christmas was celebrated in the summertime, when the sky was clear and the sun was smiling down on them like an old and cheery friend. Wally moved to America when he was just shy of his 10th birthday so, though he had some vague memories of holidays past, he was rather accustomed to the harsh and long winters of the midwest. Joey, who had lived in Cleveland since before he could talk, didn't know to expect anything different. The brothers both had adapted quite well to the climate and typically looked forward to waking to blankets of white. It had snowed the night before, leaving the neighborhood vacant and quiet. Their father cursed under his breath as he scraped the ice from the windows, making sure to drive careful when they set off in the direction of school (and in his case, work). Though Wally found the sight of a fresh blanket of snow covering his side of the city beautiful, he found that for the first time in forever he was unimpressed. Awakening to the blinding sight from his window did not excite him. When he'd put his winter coat on, he was left feeling unsatisfied and uncharacteristically cold.

Finding himself with a rather weak appetite that morning, he settled for a glass of orange juice and a piece of crust from Joey's toast. He assured his mother that he would eat something later at school when he grew hungrier and ignored her look of confusion and maternal concern. He leaned over to kiss her goodbye, to tell her that he loved her too, and joined six year old Joey in the car that his father had just finished digging out of the snow. There he sat, watching the fingers of his father snake around a switch upon the dashboard. A moment later, a warmth started to fill the vehicle. It seemed to move around him but never seemed to really reach him well enough for him to taste the effect. Joey, who had raced to get the front seat, twisted his spine to peer back at his older brother. Wally could see his mouth moving but the sounds that came out were distorted, as if playing on a radio with a bad signal. He said nothing in return and yet the child continued on, unfazed by the lack of response. Wally momentarily wondered why Joey was like that, but the thought passed him just as quick as it came. He turned his head, and with it the radio station, and stared out at the desolate street.

It was the moment that his father called his name for the third that Wally decided to kill himself. Shaken out of his quiet thoughts, he met his father's eyes in the rear view mirror. Again, he was asked a question. He stole a glance at the digital clock on the dash and noted it was 7:42 AM. The image of his neighbor's frozen mailbox remained in his head even as he spoke.

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I can do that."

Afterwards, he returned his longing gaze to the window and tried to forget that he wasn't alone with himself. He let his eyes, deep pools of green, linger over every corner, every shape that they spotted outside. He took careful attention to the way the trees stood tall, the way their branches were sprinkled with sweet powdered sugar, sometimes so thick and so heavily that they were weighted down, threatening to collapse beneath the weight of the powder at any given moment. For a moment he considered he was nothing more than a tree, weighted down by the heaviness of the world around him. He felt it would be nice to have some French toast come next morning, to drizzle the slices with syrup and powdered sugar. He would dust the bread with as much white as he could, wondering how far he could take it before the toast suddenly disappeared beneath the weight of the powder. Wally wondered what it would feel like to disappear. At 7:44 AM he decided he would find out.

The decision came so easily and so naturally that he did not stop to consider how silly it was. Satisfied with the thought that had randomly plagued him, he let out a near silent breath and found himself bemused by the way the seconds seemed to be ticking by excruciatingly slow. He realized that the day had presented itself much like any other day before that and that, as far as mornings went, his was going along rather smoothly. Joey failed to have another meltdown and his parents didn't waste even a single breath arguing, something that should have surprised him, considering their relationship consisted mostly of fighting and sex. Wally could swear his mother and father hated each other, and likely only remained married for the sake of their children, and for the sake of not having to deal with the financial and emotional expenses of separation. One night Wally's father had stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him so loud that his bedroom shook. He was gone for the weekend, heaven knows where, but returned as usual, pretending that nothing had ever happened. Wally hadn't dared to ask why, afraid of knowing the answer. That night he heard his parents in their bedroom as he crept down the hall to retrieve a glass of water, Joey fast asleep in the other room. He heard the sounds of hushed whispers. There was no mistaking the sound of the weathered mattress springs, of the bed frame hitting the wall. His mother released a strangled moan that left him feeling hollow and horrified for many reasons. He hurried back to bed and occupied his mind with The Simpsons' season 8 DVD. He struggled to sleep that night, and many nights to follow.

Some time after the incident where his father vanished for the weekend, Wally's mother revealed she was pregnant and was expecting another child in June. He did his best to feign excitement but found it much too difficult to. Upset at the news, he told his mother he was sleeping over at Hoagie's house. He didn't allow himself very much chance to pack and prepare for the sudden trip, even forgetting a toothbrush and a change of clothes. He grabbed his phone charger and wallet, wrestled the keys from Joey, and left. He had to bite his lip so hard on the way over to his best friend's home that he could taste blood in his mouth, though it was all he could do to keep his composure and not collapse into a puddle of goo on the walk throughout the neighborhood.

It wasn't that Wally resented the idea of extending the family. In fact, the idea would have delighted him had it not been for the fact that his family was on the brink of falling apart at any given moment. His parents could hardly stand to be in the same room with one another, aside from the times when they were keeping him up at odd hours of the night, unclothed and one glass of wine too far gone. His mother was prone to outbursts and spent half of her day yelling at her sons for things need not be yelled for. Once she accused Wally of stealing money from her purse, which he rightfully denied considering he hadn't. Outraged by the thought and by the way he refused to admit to the unjust crime, she struck him across the face. She apologized a moment later, sorry for having lost control of her anger. Wally loved his mother dearly and knew that she was not a bad person. She showed so much care for him, and especially Joey, over the years that there wasn't a single cell in his body that was foolish enough to question her love for even a second. Still, as a mother she lacked general compassion and patience, something that troubled him more because of Joey and less because of himself. Wally had developed a thick skin and a hard shell early on and learned to deal with the way he was treated on a daily basis, but he worried endlessly for his brother, who was still young and unnaturally sensitive.

Joey had always been a bit of an odd child. At times he would talk and talk and talk for hours on end, tongue moving so fast that sometimes he stumbled over his own words as if he physically could not keep up with his brain. He struggled with gauging other people's interests in his winded conversations and failed to recognize when his spiels were detested until he was being silenced with a light smack at the back of the head or a shout. He often fixated on specific topics, like toy trains and cartoons and especially insects. Joey had been obsessed with entomology for three years and would sometimes become so enthralled in his ant farms and encyclopedias that he would enter his own little world, tuning out the sounds of anything and everyone around him for what could stretch on for hours. As well, he seemed to lack a mental filter, not unlike his brother and parents. It got him into a lot of trouble, something that Wally could relate to often, though sometimes Joey seemed to blatantly disregard the existence of other people's feelings in whole, though it never appeared to be purposely. On countless occasions Wally had sat with the fragile boy and tried to explain why he needed to be careful and polite, but Joey never could really seem to understand this on a deeper level.

When Joey was upset, which was quite often and quite often for vague reasons, he would shut down or explode. At times he would have horrible meltdowns that lasted hours, sometimes at home and sometimes in public places. Once he had missed the bus because Wally had woken late that morning and had failed to get him there on time and screamed loud enough to acquire curious stares. Embarrassed and angry, Wally had tried to calm the child down, but at moments like those Joey seemed virtually inconsolable. Others often judged him for being so grown and still throwing tantrums, and figured he was a kid who had been spoiled rotten by pushover parents. Wally knew this had very little to do with Joey's upbringing and more so on the fact that something had never really felt right with him. As his older brother, Wally made it his job to look after the boy, especially when the strain on their parents' relationship affected the way his parents behaved. His family had always been slightly dysfunctional, but close. Within the past year the comforts of home had deteriorated into nothing but a distant memory, and Wally spent more and more time out with his friends than with his relatives, wanting to shield himself from the stress of the crumbling household. Still, he invested a large part of himself in Joey, doing his best to protect the young boy from the horror that was the Beetles family.

With his mother tense and unstable and ruling the house, and his younger brother troubled, Wally didn't understand how anyone could see his mother being pregnant as a positive thing. His father was hardly around, always at work, always somewhere. Their conversations were short and forced, and though he could tell that his father was conflicted and hurting, Wally resented him for his absence. The family had always been somewhat tight with money, as well, and having another mouth to feed seemed inconvenient and troublesome. At times, when their father had gotten fewer hours of work scheduled, they would struggle to provide for their dog, Saint, who was a sweet and caring lab with a massive appetite and an even more insatiable desire to chew through socks.

On the verge of their parents' fall out and everything, Wally did not understand why his parents hadn't been more careful. He'd known for many years that he and Joey had become because of "happy accidents", as their parents had explained ("why, you boys were the best mistake I ever made!"). He never doubted the fact that his parents wanted him, or Joey, even if they had come at surprising times. Still, the last thing this family needed was a new baby in the house and Wally felt disappointed in his mother and father for letting something like this happen. He didn't want the child to come into his home and suffer the same demise as he and Joey, though he felt that his mother had embraced the idea of another infant simply because it was a final hope for her relationship with her husband. Perhaps all they needed was another child to bring them closer together. Wally knew this would not fix all the flaws in their relationship, but he was too smart to verbalize this at the risk of being reprimanded for it. Instead, he tried to push the thought out of his mind for the time being. At first it was easy to avoid the realization, to pretend that it had been made up. But once his mother started to gain weight and her belly began to grow, it became too hard to ignore.

Though he typically had a distaste for school, Wally found himself relieved when he was in class and away from his mother. Despite this, he often struggled to focus on what was being taught and usually found his eyes wandering from the chalkboard before he even realized it. He hardly put much effort into taking notes on lectures and studying for exams was something he only pretended to do to get Joey out of his room. His grades suffered throughout his educational career, and in sixth grade he had been referred to a specialist after causing repeated distractions in class. The therapist diagnosed him with ADHD, which explained why he always found it hard to pay attention and sit still when he needed to, or wanted to. Though relieved to know that it wasn't his fault that he was like this, Wally had felt a bit down after the diagnosis, feeling that something had been wrong with him. His mother refused to put him on medication, which he refused to take, and had special arrangements made at school to help him stay on track. It helped a little, and his grades improved considerably the remainder of the school year, and when he'd moved onto junior high. For a while Wally began to apply himself, not wanting to disappoint anyone and not wanting to let his ADHD get the best of him. It wasn't until things started to get rough at home that his motivation began to falter slightly, and with it his GPA.

Now a freshman in high school, Wally could find very little in himself to even show up for homeroom and history and even P.E.. He liked the fact that he was busy and away from home, but much of the time his mind was distracted by his thoughts. Sometimes he felt so stressed that his heart would race as he walked towards class. Sometimes, for reasons he didn't know, he would suddenly feel ill. A few times he'd hid himself in a bathroom stall, willing himself not to pass out or cry. Wally wasn't someone who cried often, and rarely in front of others, but lately he felt his strong exterior cracking, threatening to cave in on him and bury him alive. He told himself he was just overwhelmed with high school and the news of the new baby. He stayed away from home as often as he could, making it hard for his mother to notice this change. At times she noticed he wasn't eating as much as he typically did, but he usually shrugged it off with an excuse and left, finding that he could no longer stand to look at her or his father.

On that Tuesday in February, Wally arrived to school seven minutes before the bell. His father had been careful and slow as he drove Joey to kindergarten. He left Wally at the high school with an "alright, see you later, son" and disappeared down the street. Wally stood and watched the car grow smaller and smaller as it vanished from sight, waiting until he struggled to imagine it even in his own head before he turned and made his way to class. At 8 AM sharp the bell rung and Wally took a seat in a chair near the windows. He raised a hand and responded "here" when his name was called for attendance and gave the instructor eye contact and his undivided attention for a whole two minutes before he began to doodle in his notebook. He drew trees and french toast, both drowned and weighted down by the incomprehensible density of white.


	2. two

Very little changed after that Tuesday Wally decided to disappear. He started a new chapter in his U.S. history textbook and, at times when the room had gone quiet or the teacher had stepped out, found himself staring into the pages longingly, almost as if trying to see past the ink and through the paper for some sort of answer to questions he didn't really realize he had. Sometimes he stopped to imagine his face there, a photo by his name in bold. Wally wondered if he would ever see his picture in a book like this. Deciding no, he wouldn't, he'd turn the page and skim over a paragraph about colonization. He'd retain very little and cram the information in a day before the test. Sometimes this worked, but more often than not it didn't. Kuki would tell him to study harder, to take things more seriously. He would tell her not to worry about it. He knew that high school grades did not matter anymore. All he was destined to be was yet another statistic. He didn't blame her for not understanding.

One by one he marked off the days on his calendar. To him, it felt as though 2015 had just begun the day before. Despite this, he reached for a Sharpie and drew a big X on the month of February, perplexed at how the year seemed to be passing him by so quickly. He flipped the page over until he was staring down at the month of March and tacked the calendar to the wall near his bedroom door. Hoagie had gotten him this calendar from the Empire State Building on his trip to New York City late the previous year. Wally really liked this calendar. He enjoyed observing the photography that came with each month. Sometimes he stared at it while lying in bed (sometimes squinting, as he was finding it more and more difficult to see things clearly from across the room) and pictured himself there, in The Big Apple. Sometimes he imagined he was dancing on Broadway, not that he was ever much of a dancer. Other times he was blinded by the lights of Times Square. Others he was staring up at Lady Liberty herself, whispering to her that he liked her eyes, even if they were rusted and void of life. He imagined the street food was good, like the hot dog stands around each corner or the waffle trucks lining the streets. Wally made himself a promise that he would one day take a bite of that apple. He promised Joey he would, too, though he knew this was only something he would ever taste in his dreams and would never see to fruition.

* * *

"I don't know why, Joey. We can Google it later. Now come on, grab your coat. We've gotta go to the supermarket before the florist closes up shop," he told his brother one Saturday. Their mother was turning 43 and they'd decided to surprise her with a nice bouquet of roses, her favorite. Joey suggested cake and an elaborate macaroni dinner. Wally suggested they make her breakfast in bed, but later retracted the idea once he realized his mother had an early appointment with the doctor. It was only a check-up, she said, to make sure things were going fine with the baby. Wally slept in until 10, finding he was always tired. When he woke up his mother was gone, and his father had already left to work. Joey buttoned his coat as Wally struggled to tie his boots. Getting the six year old ready to leave the house always seemed like an impossible task, but somehow Wally managed to do so in great time.

Walking hand in hand, as Joey insisted, the two made their way down the icy streets in the direction of The Market, a place their family frequently shopped at (and a place Wally frequently judged for its uncreative name). Joey asked to hold the basket and Wally did not bother to fight him about it. He grabbed two boxes of macaroni and placed them into the basket, beginning down the various aisles. Joey followed closely, though struggled to keep his hands off of things he found on each shelf. Wally grew impatient as they argued over what sort of dessert to get. Wally reminded Joey that the cake was for their mother, and not for him, and that they couldn't possibly get chocolate cake because their mother did not like chocolate cake. Joey pouted his lips and slammed his foot onto the floor, angry and devastated, then grabbed a box of chocolate cake mix. Wally, who had dealt with the young boy's irritability all day, looked tired. He removed the box from the basket and placed it back onto the shelf where it'd been found, pulled the basket out of his brother's hands (with a slight struggle), and told the boy "enough, Joey!" and "I don't care" and also "stop your crying or else I'm going to leave you here." They picked up the flowers and left.

Once home, Wally set the bags on the counter top and started the Frozen DVD for Joey, knowing it was one of the few ways to get the child to sit still and get out of his way. He placed the bouquet in a vase that his mother had saved from the previous year and filled it with water. He made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but first one for Joey, then responded to a text from Hoagie that he'd forgotten to reply to before. He later allowed Joey to help prepare the yellow cake mix and put it in the oven to bake. Wally had never been much of a professional in the kitchen. He often cooked things too long until they were left charred and black. Baking cakes was easy, though, still he created a reminder on his phone to check on its progress every so often so as not to risk burning down the house on his mother's date of birth. Carefully he pulled the sponged bread out of the oven and left it to cool. He read over the instructions for the macaroni nearly four times before he began to prepare the food. He'd always been horrible with directions, and his cooking typically consisted of sandwiches, cereal, and microwaveable TV dinners. All things he could make for himself and for Joey without risk of total disaster. Despite his concerns for their safety and satisfaction, Wally did his best to cook the dinner for his family (as simple as it was), wanting his mother to be impressed and surprised on her special day.

"Everything's looking great," she told them when she arrived home that evening. She'd been out with her friend Claudia for most of the day after her appointment, leaving the boys to prepare their gifts. Wally was glad that his mother had a friend she could spend time with outside of the house. She had always seemed rather lonely and unsocial, considering she had stopped working after Joey's birth. Claudia was someone she'd met at a book signing some time before. Wally liked Claudia because she was nice and really had taken a liking to Joey. Claudia didn't have kids or a husband of her own. Wally sometimes had the suspicion that the woman was a lesbian, but he wasn't entirely sure how to confirm this. "The doctor said that the baby is healthy and developing as it should. Thank God for that, the best birthday present ever."

She teared up when she saw what her sons had prepared for her after her arrival, eying the cake and the pasta and the roses that they'd placed centerfold on the dining table. She engulfed them both into a loving embrace and told them how much she appreciated them going through all the trouble. Joey explained how they hadn't gotten chocolate cake because she didn't like chocolate cake. In return, she told him that she was the happiest woman in the world.

Later, when her husband called to tell her he had to stay late at the office and work overtime, her expression grew dark and her enthusiasm dimmed. She thanked the boys for the meal and excused herself, claiming that she was tired after such a long day out running errands. Wally felt bad for his mother and later tried to engage her in a conversation about the fetus inside her, asking whether or not she would finally find out about the sex, something she had been holding off from the beginning. She liked surprises. She told him that she didn't know, "maybe soon", and that he could leave if he wanted to. She could watch Joey for the rest of the night. She knew how tiring it could be caring for the boy all day, and wanted to give her first child a chance to see the friends he had hardly seen all week. Wally secretly wanted to stay, simply because he did not feel like talking to anyone, and also because he did not want his mother to be lonely on her birthday. She promised him it was fine and that she wouldn't be lonely because she had Joey, then shooed him away. Wally gave a sigh but smiled and kissed his mother goodbye. He left because he knew that it would make her happy, recognizing that she seemed very apologetic lately, almost as if tortured by secret guilt. Wally knew his mother had a lot to be guilty for, but found himself uncomfortable with the notion that she was finally starting to realize this herself.

* * *

The remainder of the month seemed to pass faster than really necessary. Once Wally had blinked on a Monday only to open his eyes and find that suddenly it had become the Tuesday after the next. He spent most of that afternoon on Netflix, binge-watching a show about the FBI. For a few moments he imagined himself apart of the series, clad in uniform from head to toe, armed with weapons. He caught an escaped murderer and became a national hero, winning the heart of his love interest, Sandra (played by some actress whose name he could never quite remember despite how hard he tried). Afterwards, Wally would wonder when it was he became so involved in these sorts of fantasies. Much of the time it felt like he was living in another world, in another life, inside of his own head and never quite taking notice of the universe around him. Wally wondered if this could possibly be the reason why the time seemed to be evading him. Perhaps he spent so much of his time thinking about being someone else, about being _somewhere_ else, that he'd disconnected from his own reality. Curious and amused but not really caring, he continued with his viewing. Abby texted him and asked if he was coming to her house for scary movies and popcorn. Wally told her he couldn't because he had a stomach ache. She told him to feel better.

Near the end of the month, Joey expressed his sudden interest in the art of magic. He'd watched The Incredible Burt Wonderstone the day before and told his older brother how he hoped he could get a magic kit for his birthday that summer, so he could be like the guys in the movie. Wally told him to behave and pick up after himself and that maybe his wish would come true, as long as he deserved it. Joey asked Wally to teach him some tricks that he knew. After finding himself disappointed with his brother's quarter-behind-your-ear trick, he demanded the other YouTube how to fool someone with a deck of cards. Wally did the research for him and later Joey tried the tricks out on their father. Later, he asked Wally what sort of trick he wanted to learn next. Wally told Joey that he wasn't sure, that maybe he would learn to perform a vanishing act. Joey told Wally that it would be impressive, but that he preferred him to learn something else. He didn't want his only brother to vanish. Joey cracked an inappropriate joke about a walrus that he'd made up on the spot then ran of to play with his blocks. Wally sat there in silence for a few moments, chest hurting.

It hurt to look at his brother after that conversation, as harmless as it'd been. Wally knew that Joey admired him dearly, and the feeling was mutual. Wally had never been too fond of children, Joey being the only exception. He felt they were too noisy and whiny and often had sticky fingers. He hated the way they smelled and cried and made messes. Wally was almost sure he would never have kids of his own because the idea of a family like that did not appeal to him. He was never sure that he would even find a woman to marry.

He'd hit a growth spurt during 7th grade and had become nearly the tallest in his circle of friends (he and Hoagie were almost neck and neck). He'd played sports and prided himself in his figure, though slim and deceiving. His skin had always been a lot clearer than Hoagie's, and Kuki often told him he had the nicest smile, but Wally knew that he was no heartthrob. In fact, in this new school with all these new people, he was a nobody. The idea did not bother him all that much. He was comfortable with his quiet, freshman status at Gallagher High. Before, he had tried to overcompensate for his insecurities by throwing himself out in front of everyone's eyes. He'd done just about anything to gain attention from his peers, even going as far as becoming the dubbed "class clown". Though Wally knew that he was next to nobody now, he no longer seemed to care. He had never become the heartthrob that he'd imagined himself becoming, but at some point had rounded himself out and come to terms and acceptance with what he was, and what he had to offer.

Wally knew that he was not a bad person. He wasn't the idiot people had always made him feel he was. When he applied himself, he proved just how successful he could be. He was funny and, at times, charming and a bit too loyal. His looks were average and most people seemed to like him, at least once they got to know him. Once a girl in science told him that he had the prettiest eyes she'd ever seen. Wally told her thanks and she told him that she'd been wanting to talk to him for quite some time but had never gotten the courage to do so. Wally had always been a bit of a social butterfly, but around girls he grew shy and uncomfortable. Though he hadn't been chased around by the cheerleaders and the popular girls at school, Wally knew very well that he still wasn't the worst guy in the world. Sure, his voice cracked sometimes and his hair was near untamable and his fashion sense was lacking but he had a lot of good qualities in him that he knew people appreciated.

Still, Wally often considered the poor to overshadow the good within him. Though he could be sweet when he wanted to, much of the time he came off as a jerk. In 7th grade, someone had called him a bully. He liked picking fights with other kids, mostly because he'd felt the urge to prove himself to them, though unsure why. Wally had learned to not be so abrasive as he aged. His fuse was still as short as ever and it didn't take much to upset him, much like his mother, but he'd matured enough to know not to always act so quickly on his feelings. His friends had helped him a lot with that over the years, calming him when they saw he was getting out of control and reminding him to think before acting. Though he still faced moments of weakness, Wally had mellowed out considerably since middle school and now seemed to be less affected by the world around him.

Despite all that, Wally sometimes felt like he was a horrible friend and a horrible person to be around as a whole. He could be mean when he tried to be, and sometimes could be mean without. At times he'd taken his friends for granted, had expected too much from them. He appreciated his family but dreaded the thought of being near them. He resented his mother and his father for their mistakes when he knew quite well that he made just as many. He cared for his younger brother more than he'd cared for anyone in the world, yet at times he struggled to not want to avoid him for the rest of his life, not wanting to deal with the stress he brought him. Sometimes he imagined graduating high school and moving away to college, far away from anyone he knew. Sometimes he forgot to feed Saint, the family dog, and sometimes he didn't feel as guilty about it as he maybe should have.

For those reasons, and quite a few others, Wally often found himself sitting and screaming inside of his head, hating himself. He was not a terrible person, and couldn't have been considering he was loved and cared for by so many people around him. Yet he knew all too well he was so far from perfect, and this bothered him. Wally considered himself a good brother because he watched out for Joey even when Joey didn't need to be watched out for. He held his hand when they crossed the street, picked him up from his playgroups, and made him sandwiches when their mother wasn't home. He distracted him when his parents were arguing, even took him to the park with his friends just to get him out of the house. He sat there and tried to look interested when Joey told him facts about bugs, even when he didn't really care for them. He told the kid he loved him every night before he went to bed, and sometimes sat at the edge of the tub while he bathed, if only for the company. Wally knew that he was doing his best for his brother, a child who needed far more attention than his family could provide. But he felt that maybe his best was just not good enough anymore.

How could he consider himself a decent caretaker when thoughts of leaving clouded his head throughout the day? Wally knew that Joey needed him the most, more than anyone else. He was looked up to for inspiration and support when the boy lacked this from his own parents. Wally sometimes felt like Joey was the only person who truly depended on his existence, and most often than not that was enough for him. But lately it had been very hard for him to think about much else aside from the desire to no longer exist. Wally realized he had been depressed for quite a long time, but had realized at a point he assumed a little too late. Though getting through the day to day was a struggle, he did so with his head held high. The transition into high school had not been as traumatic as he'd been warned, though trying to keep up with schoolwork and grades was beginning to wear him thin. Everything seemed to be wearing him thin. Wally often told himself he wished he could pause time or disappear, that life was passing him by too quick for him to handle, but it hadn't been until that Tuesday in February when he'd really started to consider this to be his only option.

* * *

Wally wasn't sure that he wanted to die. The thought of dying terrified him, the idea that it could hurt. Wally thought this was a silly thing to worry about considering he was hurting all the time, but still felt like a coward because of it. He'd heard that it was more cowardly to give up than to keep fighting. Wally had always been a fighter, but he'd come to realize that he had only been fighting himself all this time, and losing. Some days the thought of leaving consumed him so much that he could not even focus on the television, on his video game competitions with Hoagie. Once his friend had passed him a knife in the kitchen as they prepared snacks. Wally took the knife and imagined himself digging it through his own throat. He even felt his heart begin to race at the thought that he would not be able to control himself from those urges. He knew that he would end up hurting others with his actions, should he complete them. Wally once imagined himself stabbing his brother. He knew he would never harm Joey in that way but still the thought made him feel sick and dangerous. He'd closed himself off in the bathroom, turned on the shower, and cried for thirty minutes.

Wally even had dreams about his demise. Once he'd dreamed of being on stage at a magic show, being the sole performer. His family sat in the audience, Joey beaming, his mother's stomach kicking. His best friends were in the second row: Hoagie, Kuki, Abby, Nigel. Surrounding them were teachers, the principal, even the family dentist. Wally, adorned with a mystical cape, gave a wave and performed his final act. He grabbed the pistol from his assistant and placed it up against his neck. The audience cheered and looked on with wonder as he burst into tears. His hands began to shake, and he hesitated, but somehow pulled the trigger. He awoke that moment with a start, shooting upright and finding himself in a dark bedroom. Hoagie was lying beside him, asleep. Wally looked at his phone and found it was only 4:23 in the morning. He could not fall asleep again after his dream, scared that it would come true. Later he realized he and Hoagie had played a shooting game before bed, and blamed that for the idea, though the thought continued to shake him all week.

He reminded himself that he was not a bad person for feeling this way, that sometimes people just felt sad for no reason. He knew the statistics. He knew that this was a common thing and that he was not the only one who struggled through this sort of issue. He knew help was around, that good health was around, and all he had to do was reach out and grab it with his hands. But Wally felt angry and ashamed and disappointed in himself for letting it get this far. He hated talking about his feelings, hated admitting that he needed help. It took so much of him to tell his mother when he wasn't feeling well, took so long for him to tell his own best friends that he was upset about something. He knew that he was surrounded by people who would do anything to help him feel better, but he did not want to burden them with that obligation.

Wally had always tried to take care of himself, and he swore that he would always do so, even when others couldn't. He wanted to remain strong for his brother, to show everyone that he wasn't crazy like his family was. Wally knew he could not dare to show any hint of weakness or else everything riding on his shoulders could collapse, taking him and Joey down with it. Wally wanted this to be easier, and knew that he had waited too long to wave his white flag. Feeling stuck and hopeless, he despised what he had done to his loved ones. He felt that just the consideration of hurting them like that was worse than actually doing so. He didn't deserve to be near people who were so genuine. He felt that he did not deserve their love and understanding. He hated himself because he knew that every day he was twisting the knife in their backs, further and further pushing it in until one day he would kill them.

* * *

He tried to do something about it one day. Once he told the teacher he needed to see the nurse because he wasn't feeling well. The teacher excused him and sent him to the office where he met with a middle aged healthcare worker. She asked him what was wrong and he told her "everything". She asked him to be more specific and he told her that everything was hurting, that he did not feel well in the slightest. She took his temperature and told him that he did not have a fever. That he could rest there for a moment if he needed to, and to drink some water. He remained there for the rest of the period, when finally she told him to get to his next class. Wally teared and told her that he wanted to go home because he really did not feel well. When the nurse said she could call his mother for permission, he withdrew his statement, afraid of his mother knowing. He agreed to return to class and finished the day feeling ill. Later, he knew that he'd screwed up a real chance to speak to someone about his problems. But opening his mouth had been too hard, making words had seemed impossible. Wally knew how to say he wasn't feeling well, but he still did not know how to say why.

The next day Nigel asked him why he'd missed biology. Wally explained that he spent the period in the nurse's office because of a headache. Nigel commented that Wally had been getting sick a lot lately, and that maybe he should see a doctor about it. Wally laughed and told Nigel that a doctor couldn't help him, that he was far beyond that. Nigel seemed confused by this, so Wally left with the excuse "I need to go pick up my brother". He said goodbye to his longtime friend and cursed himself for being so weird. Wally had caught himself saying things like this every once in a while, things that raised brows and earned him concerned glances. He knew that he was beginning to behave strangely around his friends, but that was only because he was trying so hard to behave normal when he didn't feel the same.

On a Wednesday, Abby asked if everything was "okay". Wally said "yes", that everything was "okay", considering it wasn't _great_. She said that she just wanted to remind him that he could speak to her about anything, that they were friends and that she would always be there for him if he needed anything. He told her that she was gross and that he hated when she got all sentimental like that. She said it was only because she cared but dropped the subject, knowing that she would get nothing from prodding. He told her with his eyes that he appreciated her words, but inside felt conflicted. He knew that he could trust Abby, but he worried what she would think or say about his problems. About what anyone would say. He told her to stop worrying so much and to lighten up. Everything was fine and they had a night of joy awaiting them. The gang met at the arcade at 6 and stayed out later than they should have. Wally enjoyed himself, found himself laughing a great deal of the time, but felt like vomiting when he got home.

It was only when he began to avoid his friends that their concerns started to overwhelm him. Sometimes he went out because he felt like he could. Sometimes he felt so free and so content that he wanted to talk and surround himself with his friends for days at a time. Sometimes he felt so satisfied just being around them, being out of the house. Some days his mood was so elevated he really felt like perhaps his problems were over, and that he had made it. But other times this elation would come crashing down on him, reminding him that he was still just fooling himself. Some days he went out with his friends to get away from his parents. Some days he went just to get his friends to stop asking him questions, to stop being so suspicious of him.

He'd been making excuses a lot more lately, about how he wasn't feeling well, about how he needed to babysit and how his mother said they could have no visitors. Sometimes he told them he had a paper to do or that relatives were visiting from Australia. Once he said he had a dentist appointment and that later his family was going to dinner and then stopped replying to their texts. At first his friends did not find this all that strange, but once the lies started building up they knew that he was merely trying to avoid being near them. They harassed him when he made another excuse, pestered him into knowing why he had become so distant. Kuki said that she was worried about him, that they all were. He became defensive and angry and told them to drop it. That he was fine and that he was just busy. Abby gave him scrutinizing looks and Nigel became irritated, claiming that if he was really their friend he would tell them what was going on. Asked why he didn't want to be around them, and if he didn't "like them" anymore. Wally grew furious at the accusation and told them that maybe he didn't. He had to blink hard to fight off the tears he knew wanted to escape and made another excuse to leave. Hoagie, distraught and ridden with worry, placed a hand on his arm and grabbed him. Wally pulled away and told him to leave him alone, he was going home. He did.

The next day he apologized to them, claiming that he was just overwhelmed with school and stressed because his family was having problems. They told him they got it and that it wasn't an issue. That they understood. Wally wanted to tell them they didn't, almost wanted to tell them that he wanted to die, but thanked them for forgiving him anyway. He told them that he would be okay and that they need not worry, but he had a lot on his plate lately and that he had a lot to take care of at home. He promised that he would not ignore them anymore and would try to not be such an ass, but warned them that he may not be around quite as often in the near future until things settled down. They told him to take his time, that they were there for him if he needed anything, and said their goodbyes. They gave him his space when it was obvious he needed it and did not pry for answers, knowing that he would not give them any.

Wally admired that his friends were so supportive of him, that they had it in their hearts to forgive him and give him another chance when he had been so cruel to them before. But it further perpetuated the thought that he was not worthy of having them in his life. He spat out lie after lie in their faces, and pushed them away when he really only wanted to reach out for their hands. Conflicted and unsure, he watched the world close in on himself. He had never felt more alone in his life and he knew that it was his own fault. He considered that things were better this way, anyway. That this was better for all of them, and that he could no longer hurt them if they weren't speaking to each other. But despite this he found himself sitting and dwelling on the feeling of solitude that overcame him. He had always been alone in the world, and the realization was hitting him as hard as an eighteen wheeler.

* * *

On a Saturday in mid April Wally and his friends went to a baseball game. He had to admit it was nice seeing them, considering he hadn't seen much of them in weeks. The sky had cleared up and the weather had become mild in recent times, bringing them a warmth they hadn't cherished since the summer before. Their team won and they took many photos to remember the festivities. Wally's face hurt from smiling so much but knew it was a good pain, one he wished he could feel more often. When he went home that night, he stared at the photos and tried to relive those moments of sheer joy. He went to bed feeling positive and hopeful, even woke feeling a similar way.

That Tuesday, at school, Kuki introduced the gang to her new boyfriend, Zeke. He was a football player and was very tall and very muscular. Wally tried to remain polite and shook the sophomore's hand, not wanting to upset his longtime friend. Wally had pined over Kuki since the fourth grade but had never gotten the courage to say anything about it, not even to himself. It seemed as though the others knew, judging by the unsettled looks they shot in his direction when he smiled. He'd been teased about his yearnings for years, and it amazed even himself sometimes how Kuki seemed so oblivious to this. He grew weak and nervous around her, never knew how to say no, and never wanted to see her sad. He knew that Kuki was happy and that she wanted her friends to like her boyfriend, so Wally pretended to because it was important, even though inside everyone knew he wanted to send his fists flying. After he greeted the older boy, Wally excused himself to the bathroom and locked himself in a stall. Hoagie rapped on the door a few moments later and asked if he wanted to talk about it. Wally told Hoagie to "fuck off" and to "leave it alone". Hoagie did, upset, and Wally missed next period.

He didn't come to school the next two days. Wally explained that he'd come down with a case of the stomach flu, that they could even ask his mother for verification. He'd been nauseous and weak and puked a few times. Wally saw Kuki approaching, Zeke at her side, and said that he still wasn't feeling well. He said perhaps he shouldn't have come to school and left home at lunch.

Wally knew that he was falling behind in school again, but focusing seemed much too hard when he felt so awful all the time. His falling behind only caused him more stress when he tried to catch up, and he felt consumed and surrounded by responsibilities he didn't believe he could handle. He woke in the mornings with a stomach ache that lasted days at a time, dreading the thought of coming to class and leaving his room. Once he had shown a moment of weakness and cried to his mother, saying that he didn't want to go to school that day because he didn't feel well. She didn't believe him. She told him that he'd missed enough days already and that the excuses would no longer work. Wally begged her to let him stay, to have pity on him, but she sent him off. Wally knew that ditching would land him in trouble, that the school would call his mother again, and went to class.

* * *

One Sunday, Wally's mother told him that she had had enough of his father. The man was never home, always working late on assignments, always making excuses to disappear. She said that she hated the man for who he'd become. He had supported her too little throughout her pregnancy and had become a pitiful father. Wally knew that his mother was just upset and that she needed to vent, so he let her. He told her that he understood that it was hard but that his father loved her and he knew it. She said that she no longer loved him, and that things had gone far enough. Wally begged her to reconsider, to give herself a moment to calm herself before she did anything drastic. She seemed frustrated by this piece of advice but took it nonetheless, thanking him the next morning for talking sense into her. She told him she loved him and that she wouldn't know what to do without him. Wally felt like he'd been sucked into a black hole. He knew, in theory, that this should have bothered him. But he had grown so numb by now that it was hard to register the pain he should've felt, and the guilt. When he tried to cry in the shower he found that he couldn't, even though he wanted to.

At the end of April, Wally told Hoagie that he didn't think they could be friends anymore. Hoagie was confused and didn't understand, demanded answers. Wally told him that he hadn't been a good friend to him, or to anyone, and that he didn't deserve to be surrounded by people he was only using and hurting. Hoagie told Wally he did not see things that way, that Wally wasn't a bad friend, that he was just going through a bad time. Wally said that he felt so awful for being such an asshole for so long and that he hated the way he'd been treating them. Hoagie told him to stop being so hard on himself and realize he was blowing things out of proportion. Wally told Hoagie that he was upset about Kuki's new boyfriend, Zeke, and that he was sorry for snapping at him in the bathroom that day at school. Hoagie told Wally he understood and that it was okay, that he didn't hold it against him. Wally told him that he should and that he wanted him to because it wasn't fair how they were giving him so many chances he didn't deserve.

Hoagie asked Wally if there was something else that he wanted to talk about. Wally told Hoagie that he felt scared that things were so out of his control, and Hoagie did not know what to say. Wally told him not to worry about saying anything because there wasn't anything that needed to be said. Hoagie said that he was concerned about how Wally was doing, to which Wally answered "me too". When Hoagie tried to say something else, Wally told him he was signing off from the chat and to please "tell the others" what he said, to remember to tell them "I'm sorry". Hoagie tried to keep Wally online, asked if maybe he wanted to talk on the phone or in person. Wally said that he didn't want to be friends anymore and signed off. He never signed on again.

Two days later, on a Wednesday, Wally came home from school to find the house empty. Claudia, his mother's friend, had invited her on a trip out of town to a wedding. Wally's mother seemed interested in the invitation but hesitated to accept it, unsure of leaving her family behind, even for just a few days. Wally assured her that everything would be fine, that she should go out and enjoy herself before the baby came. He could handle Joey for a few days, and they had their father if they needed anything. Wally's mother accepted the offer but only after deciding to bring Joey along with her, as Claudia suggested. Joey had never been on a road trip before and he seemed very ecstatic about one. Wally told his mother that this was a terrible idea, that she needed to relax and not worry about kids for a while, but she refused to leave the boy behind, her concern too great considering she'd never left him for more than a night. Wally tried to convince her to reconsider, to leave Joey with him and his father (who still seemed to be obsessed with his work), but deep down inside felt relieved at the notion that he'd have the house to himself for almost five days. Claudia said everything would be fine, that she loved Joey, and that they would take him to an amusement park on the way. Claudia asked if Wally wanted to join them on their mini vacation but Wally said he couldn't afford to miss more school. Wally's mother agreed.

At 4:02, Wally grabbed his phone and willed himself not to lose consciousness. His heart was beating much too quickly and his breaths were strained and short. He knew that he was having a panic attack and that the moment would pass, but this time things felt different. Wally felt as though things would not be okay after this. That he would never be able to catch his breath and feel better again. Wally knew that he had reached the end of the line, that the kettle had finally boiled over. He felt his hands shaking and his cheeks wet, and he sat himself on the edge of the sofa to calm himself. He coughed and felt as though he would become sick again, that he would cry until he gagged too hard vomit came up. He stared down at his phone through watery, clouded eyes and wondered who to call. He didn't want to worry his mother on her vacation, or his father at work. He'd avoided his friends at school for the past couple days, after his strange conversation with Hoagie on IM. Wally knew that if he called them they would answer, but he felt much too guilty to do that to them. He had pushed his friends around so much and he didn't want to keep playing games. He was afraid that they would answer and he would be forced to explain things. That they would judge him or think down on him for it. He worried that he would tell them he was stuck only for them to not care. Hell, he was even afraid that they might _not_ answer at all, that they had really had enough of his drama and moved on like he'd begged them to.

Horror rained down on him and he knew that this was the day he would reveal his final performance. Wally had grown much too tired to continue his act. Wally knew that nobody wanted to watch anymore, that his tricks had become dull and exhausting and disappointing. He regretted the way he'd treated the people around him for months. He resented them for sticking by him when he just wanted to let the darkness overtake him. Being sad was easy and at times Wally felt comfortable that way, knowing that he was at least feeling _something_. Other times when he'd felt numb and indifferent, he yearned for the feeling of hopelessness if only for the sake of feeling anything. Of feeling alive. He knew that feeling miserable was not worth much, that he might not feel like that forever if he changed things, but looking into the future and seeing something else seemed so difficult. Time seemed to be passing him, life itself seemed to be carrying on without him, not giving him time to catch up when all he felt he needed was a pause and a break. Wally knew that he would not be able to keep up with the constant demands of life for much longer. He woke too weak to get out of bed, too anxious to leave the house, and too ill to even eat. Wally knew he didn't want to die, but knew he didn't want to live. He knew that drowning in the white was the only thing left for him to do. That it was the only way he could get away from the miserable reality he had regrettably created for himself.

Scared but determined, he set down his phone and stumbled towards the bathroom, choking on a sob. His fingers trembled when he pulled the bottles from the medicine cabinet and he fidgeted so much that he almost couldn't open the first bottle, he was much too frantic. The world spun when he placed the first pill into his mouth, drowning it with water as he swallowed it. He swallowed three before the bottle fell to the floor. His hands clutched the corner of the counter so hard, feeling it the only thing from keeping him from following it. His heart raced in his chest and he suddenly heaved, spitting into the sink. He couldn't breathe through his nose and could feel the bile rising within his throat. He caught glimpse of himself in the dirty mirror and knew that he had to call somebody.

He did not want to die alone. He did not want to die at all.

He called 911 at 4:12 and told the dispatch that he didn't feel good and that he didn't want to be by himself. They asked him how old he was and he told them he was sorry. That he wanted someone to come get him. They asked him if he wanted the police or the ambulance and he said he didn't care, he just didn't want to be by himself anymore. They told him the ambulance was coming with their sirens off, to sit outside and wait for them if he could. He told them to stay and not hang up the phone, that he didn't want to be alone while he waited. They told him that he was okay, that he was going to get help, and that they would remain on the line until the paramedics arrived. They asked him questions about his family, about what his favorite movies were to ease his nerves. Wally found it hard to reply to these questions but tried anyway. When the ambulance arrived, Wally thanked the operator and hung up the phone.

He watched as the paramedics exited the vehicle and approached him, mouths moving. For the first time in a long time, Wally felt the earth stand still. Their steps fell in slow motion and he could not make out what they were saying. He took a deep breath and realized how quiet things were around him. No longer did it feel like life was racing past him. For once it felt as though life didn't exist. Like the world itself had just stopped being. The planet had stopped spinning. Suddenly, the 15 year old was hit with a wave of relief that crashed over his head and made his knees weak. He disappeared under the surface, knowing he would never resurface again.


	3. three

"And then the Lord said let there be food."

Abby raised a brow just in time to see Hoagie drop into the seat across from her, sub in tow. It had been his idea to meet up after school to eat at Subway, something that had not been done in what felt like too long but really had only been two or three weeks. Once upon a time, their group of friends had a near weekly tradition of doing so, considering the sandwiches were decently cheap and, in Hoagie's opinion, delicious. Abby had to admit she cherished eating out with her friends, even enjoyed the custom sandwiches, though there had not been a lot of mutual munching in the past couple weeks. Nigel had seemingly grown preoccupied with Lizzie and with some huge history assignment. Abby did not blame him for that, knowing he had always been someone to care about putting his 100% into school projects. Kuki, who usually tagged along, had been spending more and more time with her boyfriend, Zeke, and less time with anyone else. Abby understood that Kuki was enamored with the prospect of dating (after all, this was her first boyfriend ever) and that she was only going through the honeymoon stage. Eventually she would get her head out of the clouds and return to mother earth, but until then they had to remain patient.

Wally, on the other hand, had grown distant and more and more secretive over the past couple months. There were times when he tagged along but more often than not he had an excuse to skip the feast and head home. Abby understood that his family was having a hard time and that he couldn't spend a lot of time with them, but still had trouble hiding the concern and irritation she had over his behavior. Hoagie seemed to be taking Wally's absence the hardest, as he considered the Australian to be his very best friend. For years it appeared the two had been conjoined at the hip. Two days prior, Hoagie shared that he had had a strange and somewhat unsettling conversation with Wally over instant messenger. Wally had apologized countless times for the things he had done and said over the past months. Though Hoagie had tried to assure his friend that things were fine, that there were no hard feelings, he recognized that the blond did not seem to believe him. Suddenly, Wally explained that they could no longer be friends. That he could no longer call himself a part of their family. Hoagie had tried to talk some sense into the boy but before he could say more, Wally had signed out and since had not signed back in.

Upon hearing the news of their conversation, Abby sighed. She wanted desperately to know what had possessed their friend to say such things but knew that those were answers they would not be able to find out - at least not immediately. Hoagie had wanted to find Wally and talk to him, to see if he was alright and to maybe try to change his mind about things, but Abby repeatedly told him to leave it alone. She was concerned for the boy immensely, especially after the things he had said, but had enough respect for him to let him have his moment. Abby knew that it was unlikely Wally really wanted to stop being their friend, and it was something she reminded Hoagie and the others on numerous occasions. Wally was going through a lot and, though they had given him a lot of space already, felt he needed more time to himself. Hoagie was frantic with worry, upset that he might've just lost his best friend for good, but Abby did her best to calm him over and over, to assure him that things would be fine. They could give Wally the space he wanted and soon enough he would see what a mistake he'd made. At that moment, he was not capable of thinking clearly enough to have a talk of reconciliation. They would give him some time to wrap his head around things before they tried to get him to talk. Everything would be fine, Abby said. The issue would fix itself. Hoagie reluctantly agreed, knowing Abby was never wrong.

This time she was.

"Would you just smell that?! Oh, man, it's like my own little slice of heaven, only tastier!"

Abby shook her head and grabbed hold of her cup, lifting it and moving it towards her lips to take a sip from the straw. "You crazy," is all she said, taking another good sip before setting the ice cold beverage back down onto the table. She liked Subway, loved the smell of the place, but did not think as highly of the food as Hoagie did. He had always been a good eater. In elementary school, he had been a bit overweight. He had thinned out considerably over the years and had grown tall and lanky, but his appetite never diminished. He met every meal with the same love and anticipation as he always did. Hoagie was happiest when he was around food, and Abby had to admit it was nice seeing him happy again now. The past couple of days had been hard on him and had left him somewhat distraught. It pleased her to see him so distracted and content for once. She wanted this to last as long as possible.

"Sorry I'm late, guys."

Abby and Hoagie (who was mid-bite) glanced up to see their old friend Nigel approaching, book bag hanging from his shoulder. He offered them a quick smile and stopped beside their table, setting his items down. He took a seat next to Abby and sighed tiredly. She offered him her drink and he took it.

"Hey, Nigel! Glad you could make it. Thought it was just going to be me and Abby again today."

The Brit took a sip of lemonade before handing the cup back to the owner, shaking his head. "I wouldn't want to miss Sub-Wednesday again. And besides, I didn't get to see a lot of you guys this past week because of Lizzie's birthday and that stupid history project which is taking up all of my free time and, not to mention, Mrs. Henson basically volunteered me to help out the science club, so..." His voice trailed off as he released a large, slow exhale and rubbed at his temple. All he wanted was to stop thinking about everything for a few minutes and just enjoy the company. It felt like he had not been enjoying much of anything lately. "I just need a sandwich and a break. Thanks for waiting for me."

"Sure," Abby said, nodding. "We're just glad we ain't the only ones here for once. Ever since Kuki went _koo koo_ over her new boyfriend and with you being so busy with all your extracurricular stuff - and I don't think I even need to _mention_ Wally - it's been hard to get everyone together. And you know what they say, the more the merrier. At least if you're around I won't be the only one subjected to hearing _this one's_ dumb jokes every other minute." Hoagie looked offended but Abby did not allow him even a second to respond. "Besides, I've been meaning to ask you something about that novel assignment in English class."

Nigel cleared his throat. "Can the question wait? I'm starving."

Abby motioned with her head for him to go and he did, taking with him his wallet as he approached the sandwich counter. Abby watched him for solely a moment before she returned her attention to the friend before her, watching with mixed amusement and disgust at the way he scarfed down his food with such gusto, he almost reminded her of a malnourished dog. It took a moment too long for Hoagie to feel the eyes on him.

"What?" he asked, voice muffled by the amount of bread wedged between his cheeks.

"Nothin'. I'm just wonderin' when's the last time you stopped to take a breath. Seems like you've been eatin' and eatin' that thing and haven't even given yourself a chance to get some air in those lungs. Soon enough they're gonna shrivel up and give out, or just end up full of lettuce and mayonnaise." The last thought disgusted her. "Slow down with that or you're gonna get yourself killed. I don't wanna be doing no Heimlich on anyone today. I've been on my feet for too long today and I don't wanna get up for anything. Not even a choking idiot."

Hoagie smirked. "Relax, _Crabigail_. I can do the Heimlich on myself. I have so seven times."

"Hmm," Abby mused, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. "Sad that that doesn't surprise me."

It didn't take long for Nigel to return with his sandwich. He typically ordered the same every visit, the turkey breast and Black Forest ham, alongside a drink and a bag of chips. By then the workers at that particular sub joint had come to recognize the group of friends, who came often and who typically ordered their "usual" most visits. Nigel reclaimed the seat beside Abby and took a second to crack his fingers, as if preparing for a fight.

"Turkey and ham again? Hey, good choice!"

"I know," Nigel responded, giving Hoagie a quick nod. "I always say that I'm going to try something new when I come here but I always end up going with the classic. It's just that good, it makes me want to eat it every day." Carefully, he took the sandwich into his hands and took a big bite. "So, either of you talk to Kuki today?"

Hoagie shook his head. "She's not coming. She's with Zeke at football practice. They're going to eat after."

Nigel looked disappointed. "Oh, shame. Feels like we've hardly seen any of her lately, I mean, at least without her on his arm. It's like she refuses to leave his side for even a second. And, don't get me wrong, I like Zeke and all. He's actually a really nice guy and he's really bright, as far as football players here go. We have science club together and I could swear he knows more about phylogenetics than anyone does. He may not look like a smart guy but he's got brains, I'm telling you. He's even helped me out a few times with classwork. Guy's a total genius. Plus, he's really sweet and seems to care for Kuki a lot. I've seen the way they talk to each other."

"It's gross," Hoagie commented, wrinkling his nose. "But adorable at the same time. I hate it."

"It's absolutely revolting and lovely all at the same time," Nigel agreed, taking another bite. "It's so strange. Like, I'm not sure who I ever imagined - out of all of us - to start dating first, but it certainly wasn't Kuki. And it certainly wasn't with a sophomore on a sports team. Kuki's too innocent for something like that, and most of those guys are jerks. Most of the team is anyway. But Zeke is a random anomaly. He's even got a jerk name and yet he's still perfect. Brains, brawn, emotional sensibility. He's everything any self-respecting girl looks for in a guy."

"And everything any confused, self-questioning guy looks for as well, apparently."

Nigel looked angry.

Abby laughed. "Alright, so Zeke's an awesome guy. We get it. Those two are like two peas in a pod and two lovebirds constantly tangled up in each other's feathers. They work, and that's good for them. Kuki deserves someone that is going to treat her right and make her feel like the princess she's always imagined herself to be. Heaven knows she certainly acts like one, and by some miracle he's patient enough to play along. As far as I see it, she couldn't have found anyone more perfect for her right now. He's strong and can take care of her, he isn't a total idiot like some other players on his team, and he respects her. Good for Kuki to have that. She may have her head up in the clouds right now because she's head over heels for him, understandably, but she'll come to eventually. Dating's a whole new thing for her and she wants to taste every little second of it while she has the chance. We just gotta let her have that. She'll come 'round when she's ready to. We just gotta wait."

"That's the same thing you said about Wally," Hoagie pointed out.

Nigel glanced up from his sandwich. "Yeah, and speaking of Wally, I didn't see him at all at school today. Not even in biology. And he wasn't in class yesterday either, come to think of it. I haven't seen him at all. Have you?"

"He was there," Hoagie said, pausing to take a sip from his soda. "I mean, I didn't see him personally but my friend Trevor from math has Spanish with him 5th period and he says that Wally was there at class today and yesterday. So, at the very least, we know he's not dead. He's just avoiding us."

Abby had to fight the urge to groan. "Of course he ain't dead. Why would you even question that?"

Hoagie shrugged, innocently. Concern was etched into his expression. "Well, I don't know! I don't know what's going on in his head. Last time we talked it seemed like _he_ didn't even know. Look, I'm telling you, something's up with that kid and it isn't good. Wally would never cut us out like that. I know that he's been really distant and quiet about things for a while but you know him. Wally doesn't like to open up and talk about his feelings yet the other day he did and what he said was concerning to say the least. We're his best friends and he's trying to push us away for some reason, one that I don't understand as of right now, but the worst part is that we're just _letting_ him do it. We're just sitting by and letting it happen without much of a fight. I don't know about you guys, but to me that's what's most messed up about this whole thing. He's clearly got his reasons, even if they're misguided and stupid. I don't know, I can't say. But I don't feel good about turning my back on him when it's clear that he needs us there for him. How would you feel if you told your friends to leave you alone and they _did_? Wouldn't that just kill you?"

"If I was askin' my friends to leave me alone, it's probably because I _wanted_ to be left alone. Why would I be upset about getting what I asked for?"

"That's not the point," Hoagie stressed. The food was finally forgotten. "I mean, yeah, Wally knows what he's doing. If he says he wants us to leave him alone it's possible that is what he really wants. Is it what he really needs? Not necessarily, and he might not realize that. But, still, sometimes when I'm upset about something major and people are bugging me about it, I just want them to get off my back and let me wallow. But that's not what friends are there for. Bad friends, maybe, yes. But good friends? _Best_ friends? Best friends are the ones that help you out even when you don't think you need or want their help. They're the people who are honest with you and tell you how it is because they care enough to do that. To do whatever it takes to make you a better person, and whatever it takes to help pull you out of sticky situations. If you guys hadn't been there for me when my cat died, even when I told you it was fine and that I wasn't upset, I would've been depressed for a very long time. You guys helped me cheer up when I couldn't do it on my own, and even though I resented you guys for it at first, I appreciated what you did later once I realized that you had no other option. That's what friends do. Stick by each other no matter what, no matter what anyone says. And Wally is my best friend, too, and I don't want to just turn the other cheek and ignore the fact that he's obviously hurting right now. No matter what he says, he needs us. Who else is going to be there for him? His _mom_?"

Nigel made a noise of agreement. "I have to say, I'm with Hoagie on this one. Friends don't turn their backs on their friends no matter what happens. Wally didn't decide to leave us just because were weren't getting along or because he didn't like us anymore. It wasn't anything like that, or at least didn't appear to be. Obviously I wasn't there on Monday to have that conversation with him but from what Hoagie said, Wally's decision was based more so on the fact that he hated _himself_ and less on the fact that he hated _us_. And Wally's been our friend since, I don't know, forever! He might not always be the easiest to talk to but he's a good friend, and he's loyal as heck, and he'd never do anything like this just to spite us. Clearly he doesn't want us out of his life. He just...well, I'm not sure he even knows what he wants, really. But being alone can't be it. He's not like that. We've known him since we were young kids, that's long enough to know the type of person he is. Wally may act like he wants to be left alone but in reality he's probably more upset now considering we've just left him that way. Maybe it was just a way for him to get some attention, I don't know. But if he was testing us, then we've totally failed."

Abby frowned and uncrossed her arms, leaning over the table. "Wally ain't testin' nobody. Sure, he ain't the smartest tool in the shed but he knows better than that. He knows that we've always been there for him, whether he's asked for us to be or not. And more often than not he hasn't. Obviously he doesn't hate us, so I agree that that ain't the real reason why he just decided to cut us out now. And I have to admit, I don't like sitting around here and just waiting for him to come to his senses. I wish I could smack that boy if I could! He could use a good smackin', because clearly his head ain't screwed on right anymore. He's been acting funny for too long now and I'm sick of it. But that don't mean that we gotta go hunting for him and demanding answers right away. I agree that this ain't something we can just let go on forever, but obviously Wally wants some time alone. Even more than we've been giving him. So, I say, we give him what he wants. Eventually he'll come to his senses and realize that he misses us too much. When he's calm, we can talk to him seriously and find out what's up with him. But as of right now, I don't see that happening too easily. If he tried pushing us away before, how do you think he's going to react if we all come storming in, forcing him to talk? I know Wally and I know he wouldn't like that. We could just make things worse."

A silence fell over them as they considered this.

Then, "I don't know. I mean, I get what you're saying, Abby, I do," Hoagie muttered. "I know that he probably wants us to leave him alone and doesn't want to talk about things now. He's never been good at using his words, we all know that. He probably just needs time to think. But I just get this feeling in my gut that tells me that this is different. That there's something bigger going on here that we don't know about. And, I don't know about you guys, but as someone who considers themselves one of his friends, I can't just let this go. Not this time. I don't care that he wants to be away from us for a while. I mean, of course I care, but that's not the point! The point is that I care not because he wants to be alone, but because he seems to feel like he _has_ to be. I could care less if he told us the reason now. I'm not looking to have an interrogation with him. I just think it's a good idea to check in with him, to tell him that we acknowledge what he's asking for and that we don't hate him for it. I don't want him to think that we're cool with him being away from us because he doesn't deserve to think that we are. He needs to know that we're not ignoring him just because we don't care enough to try to talk to him, and make things work. If we're going to give him space, he should at least know that we're doing this consciously, because we want whatever he wants, and not because he doesn't matter."

Again, a silence fell over the table as the group thought.

Then, "Alright."

Hoagie raised a brow. "Alright what?"

"Alright, you're right," Abby continued with a nod. "We can talk to him. Just to make sure there's no misunderstandings. But we're not going to push him into confessing anything that he ain't ready to confess for, no matter how much we wanna know. We get in, tell him that we're cool, and get out before there's even an opportunity to screw things up. God knows we screw this thing up and there's no telling what could happen. In and out, that's it. No more."

For the first time in a few minutes, Hoagie smiled.

"Yes! Okay! Thank you! That would make me feel a lot better if we did that. Really."

Nigel nodded. "It would me, too. We can go to his house after this if you want. He should be home by now, it's late enough. I don't know where else he'd be."

Abby shook her head. "Nah, too risky. He'd just hide away in his room if he knew we were outside. Might not even open the door. If we're gonna do this right, we gotta do it in a way that we know he ain't gonna run off before we can say what we gotta say. Hoagie, he ignored your texts on Monday after you guys talked on IM. Nigel, he hasn't come to your class. Obviously he's trying to avoid us at all costs, so, the only place I can think of confronting him is at school tomorrow - since apparently he's still going to class, according to your friend Trevor. We can meet up outside of Wally's 5th period after lunch is over and wait for him to show up. He'll have to see us before going in, and it'll give us a quick minute to tell him we're cool before class starts. Easy, simple, and clean. Nobody gets hurt, everybody wins."

Unfortunately, none of them knew that the game had already ended, and that they had all lost.


	4. four

Erica, the social worker, didn't look to be a day older than twenty-three. Her light brown hair was pulled up into a high bun and she danced through the hallways with such determination that she almost resembled a preschooler at a ballet recital. All she really lacked was the tutu and the pink satin shoes. Wally thought that Erica was pretty and that she seemed too happy to be working such a depressing job in a hospital. He had always been put off by places like this; emergency rooms, the doctor's office, even the dentist. He couldn't stand the way that everything looked and smelled and felt so sterile. It reminded him of broken bones and his grandmother dying, of memories that he had once tried to forget long before.

Wally had always been squeamish when it came to things like needles and blood. He was fine watching the red pour out of wounds in movies and in video games, but the sight of it on his own skin made him feel nauseous and faint. Wally knew that he could find a lot of blood and a lot of needles at the hospital, he wouldn't even have to look hard for them. He wouldn't have to look at all. Even when sick with a fever and in need of medical attention, Wally always did his best to avoid having to visit one of these places, the fear of being pricked and bled dry all too great, the chance all too risky. Though he knew well enough to prepare for his arrival at the hospital that Wednesday afternoon, he still found himself mentally panicked the moment the ambulance stopped moving. Wally had to admit that Erica's overall pleasantness, though somewhat unfitting given the circumstances, was nice to experience in this environment. The severity of the entire situation weighed heavily on his shoulders, despite the relief he felt knowing he was no longer in a position to do damage to himself nor to his loved ones. There was a sense of peace with knowing that things were going to change for him, but an even stronger sense of dread knowing that change would not be easy. Wally hated not knowing what would happen and, when it came down to it, was still just a 15 year old boy; sad, scared, and alone. Erica seemed to understand this, more so than anyone else he came in contact with that evening. The moment she appeared, she met Wally with a friendly smile which, by some miracle, diminished the uncertainty that had caught him by the throat. Erica told him that everything would be okay and for once Wally had believed it was the truth.

"Is there a reason you don't want to go back home?"

Wally had to take a moment to think of an answer. He could say yes, there were a lot of reasons, because there were. He hated the way he felt when he was there. He hated the way that his parents pretended that he and Joey didn't exist, that they couldn't see or hear them screaming at each other in the middle of the night. Sometimes in the middle of the morning, assuming their father was around, which seemed to be less and less frequent as the months went on. Wally didn't blame his father for running from his problems, but he resented the fact that he'd run away from his family. Wally also hated the way his mother took her anger out on them because of this. He understood that she lacked an emotional outlet, that she was pregnant and stressed and even more sensitive than usual, but he did not find it fair that she often blamed her problems on her children, even if she never outright said so. She never had to. Wally even resented Joey for demanding so much special attention twenty-four hours of the day. He knew that it wasn't Joey's fault, that it didn't make sense to be angry with him considering he suffered just as much as anyone else (if not more) in the grand scheme of things, but Wally found himself brimming with nothing more than anger as he sat, near motionless, in his hospital bed. Wally didn't want to just stay away from his home, Wally wanted to stay away from his entire life. From family, from school, from the friends he'd left behind. Wally was angry that nothing was going the way he wanted things to, but even more angry at the fact that nobody seemed to _know_ that he felt this way, nor why. It wasn't something that was easy to explain and he did not feel that he wanted to. For once, he just wanted someone to understand what he was thinking. He wanted someone to understand that things were far too simple yet somehow too complicated to verbalize.

He offered a shrug, hoping it would be enough. Knowing it wouldn't.

In return, he was given a sad smile. "Wally, I just want to help you. I just want to see you happy and safe. You do know that, right?" Once she was satisfied that he did, Erica continued, clipboard resting at the edge of the mattress. "I know that everything seems a bit crazy right now. It's a scary thing, being in the hospital. Trust me, I'm here pretty much every day dealing with patients and I come in contact with a lot of people. I know. And one thing I learned over time is that there is never a time when people stop being scared of things like this. It doesn't matter if you're five, or fifteen, or fifty! Whether you're here for something mild, like a broken wrist, or something serious, like a kidney transplant or heart surgery. Hospitals are terrifying, end of story, and it can be hard to trust people that you don't know. It's hard to trust people when you don't know what they're going to do to you. But I promise you that I'm not here to make things harder for you. I'm here because it's obvious that you need somebody to help you. You said so yourself when you called for us. And there's nothing wrong with needing help either - lots of people are ashamed of admitting that, but it was a really brave thing of you to pick up the phone and dial 911. You did your part and now it's my turn to do mine. And in order to do mine, I need you to trust that I'm not here to make you absolutely miserable on purpose. I know that talking isn't easy but if I don't know exactly what's wrong then I can't help you fix it. All I want to do is help you fix it, so that we can get you out of here. This isn't a place that you want to be in for long if you can help it, and I'm pretty sure you already know that yourself."

Again, he shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm supposed to tell you."

"Just tell me what's going on in here," she said, pointing to his head. Then, she pointed to his chest. "Or in here. Wherever. Clearly there was a reason that you picked up the phone and called for someone. Even if there's a _lot_ of reasons. I'm not asking you to give me every tiny piece of information ever right now, every detail. That's not possible. But there had to be one reason that really pushed you to make that decision, that made you decide that enough was enough and that something needed to happen. I just want to know what that final thing was so we can start somewhere. If we don't have anywhere to start then we aren't going to get anywhere. And the whole _point_ of this was to _get_ somewhere, wasn't it? We can't take any steps forward if too many obstacles are in our way. You tell me why you don't want to go home and we can move onto the next hurdle. It's that easy."

Wally didn't think it was that easy. For the first time since he got there, he wanted to cry.

Erica placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and for once the boy did not slink away. "It's okay. You don't have to be scared. Nothing bad's going to happen if you tell me. You're not here to be punished and I'm certainly not here to punish you, even though it might feel like I am. Believe it or not, I'm not good at discipline - it's precisely the reason I refuse to babysit my niece. She's a handful and I'm a bit too lenient. That works as an advantage for her." Again, she smiled, hoping it would help ease the nerves he felt during this interrogation. "You don't have to worry about being honest with me, okay? I'm not going to do anything without telling you, and that's something I can pinky promise if it helps you feel better. I just want to know what's going on so we have somewhere to start off on. The longer we wait, the longer you have to deal with nosy doctors and pestering nurses. We both know you don't want that."

"It's not that I don't want to tell you," Wally said, blinking hard. "I'm not scared. It's just...I really don't know what to say."

"Well, is there something going on with your family then? Something that makes you not want to be around them anymore?"

Wally sighed. "They're too angry."

Erica raised a brow. "Who is?"

"My parents. All the time they're just so mad. I don't know. They're just always angry with each other, and with me. And my brother. And our dog. I mean, my dad doesn't really yell at us that much. My dad works a lot so he's not home too much lately. When he is home, he's either reading newspapers or...eating cereal or...or fighting with my mum. He's too tired to yell at us and he doesn't have enough time to do that. But my mum...she's angry _all_ the time, a lot more than my dad is. She's always there and she always has something to be upset about. Sometimes I just hide in my room from her because I don't want her to scream at me for once. She's scary when she's mad like that."

"What do you mean she's scary?" Erica pried, squeezing his shoulder. "What's scary about her?"

Wally shrugged. "I don't know. I just don't like it when she yells. She gets too loud and so unreasonable. Sometimes I get in trouble for things that I didn't even do. She just finds reasons to be mad at me because she's mad at everything, and she needs someone to scream at to feel better. She doesn't have anyone else to talk to everyday, except me and my brother, so that's why she's like that with us. She's been really upset about my dad being away and everything. She's just really unhappy."

Erica pulled her hand away. "Has your mom ever told you that she was feeling unhappy?"

"Lots of times. She doesn't keep it a secret. I hear her shouting about my dad all the time. About how he's a lousy father and a lousy husband. Especially because my mum...she's pregnant right now, and she's actually pretty far along, and she's really mad because my dad hasn't been spending a lot of time with us anymore. And they're never together, and when they are together they're fighting about things which just makes it that much more harder to spend time together later because they're both mad and can't stand each other and just want nothing to do with each other. But then my mum still gets mad that he avoids her, even though she screams at him when he's around, and I don't know. She's just so mad all the time. I don't even think she tries to find reasons to be anymore. She just wakes up that way."

"Hmm," Erica acknowledged, nodding. "Well, I can certainly imagine it must be so stressful being there, at home, when that's going on. When your parents aren't getting along that way. And especially if your mom is taking her anger out on you guys, on you and your brother. Is he older or younger?"

Wally rubbed his nose. "He's six."

"Okay, so he's a lot younger than you then. That's gotta be hard on him too. It's never fun seeing your parents argue and fight, and especially when you're small it can be pretty scary. You know, parents are supposed to be like superheroes in kids' eyes. They're not supposed to be sick or unhappy or have problems. They're not supposed to be _perfect_ , obviously, but they're not supposed to have issues like that either. It's hard to realize that moms and dads are people too, and that they aren't invincible. It's the uncertainty of it all that makes a lot of young kids scared like that, when their parents are having relationship problems. It not only affects the parents but it affects the entire family as a whole. When their relationship suffers, everyone suffers."

"It scares me to think that they'll get divorced or something. We used to be so happy together, all of us. I don't know what happened but it was like one day we went to bed loving each other and the next morning we woke up unsatisfied instead. My mum tells me that she hates my dad but I don't think she really means it. I know that she loves him, she's just upset and doesn't know what to do. I think my dad loves her too but I can't really say. They've had problems for a long time. They've tried to fix things in the past but it's like whenever they try to change anything, things just end up worse than before. I love my family and I love _being_ a family, but being a family is too hard now. It's probably better that they break up and...I don't know...I just don't want them to be mad anymore. Nobody can be happy if they're mad."

Erica fought a sigh. "Wally, has your mother - or your father - ever done anything to hurt you or your brother?"

The confusion in his expression was genuine. For a moment he said nothing, instead feeling at the fabric of the stale maroon blanket with a finger and a thumb, focusing on the way it was rough against his skin. Like before, Wally had to think about how to answer. He knew what Erica was asking him, knew what sort of response she was expecting to get from him. He had to remind himself that it wasn't an absurd thing to ask. After all, she was concerned for his well-being and for the well-being of his younger brother. It was her job, after all, to ensure that their home was safe. That he had somewhere to return to to be cared for properly after his release. It wasn't wrong of her to want to know, and he didn't want to be angry with her for wanting that. Erica was sweet and kind and made him feel comfortable despite what was happening. She'd made him feel at ease enough to talk to her, something which he had not done with anyone for what felt like forever. But the thought that she'd even had the _audacity_ to question such a thing left him reeling.

Wally knew that his family was not perfect. His parents were not always the easiest people to deal with. Raising children was not easy, considering none came with instruction manuals, and he knew that he and Joey had been handfuls growing up. Their parents hadn't always been the most patient or understanding, but there was no room for doubt in Wally's heart. He knew that his mother and father loved him very much. They had always told him so, and showed him so, even without having to verbalize it. Sometimes they made mistakes, like all humans did, and sometimes Wally paid for the price for them. But he knew that they'd never done anything to hurt him out of spite. It was hurtful the way that his father disappeared for hours at time, the way that his mother punished him for things he didn't deserve punishment for. But Wally knew they'd never done those things to hurt him on purpose. He knew there were many ways to hurt someone. Emotionally, mentally, physically. His parents might not have always been the most sensible or self-aware, but they'd never done anything to hurt their children just because they could or wanted to. Wally knew they weren't like that. He was absolutely certain they never would be.

Erica, however, was not. "Anything at all?"

In an attempt to forget that she was there, at least for a moment, Wally averted his eyes to the sheets. He took a breath to calm himself and tried to pretend that he wasn't as enraged and uncertain as he secretly felt. Again, he reminded himself that it wasn't absurd of her to ask. That it was better that she did because it meant that she was doing her job as she was supposed to. And, after all, this _was_ her job. Questioning minors at hospitals and in juvenile detention centers and foster homes was what she did for a living. She was nice because she had to be, because it was the only way she could get real answers to real questions like this one.

Had his parents ever done anything to hurt him, _physically_? On _purpose_? It wasn't something he knew how to answer even in his own head. He could not deny that his mother had hit him, once, when she'd accused him of a crime he hadn't committed. She'd been angry with him and had lost her temper in a moment of weakness. It was a mistake. She'd apologized immediately after and her remorse had seemed genuine. Wally had forgiven her, knowing that she hadn't meant to harm him in any way. That she hadn't wanted to. His mother wasn't like that. He forgave her again when it happened some time later - once, maybe twice more. It wasn't something he was counting. But had she ever meant to hurt him just because she wanted to? No, Wally did not think so. He knew what a wreck that woman was and, though he was disappointed with some of her decisions, felt sorry for her more than anything. She'd never struck him hard enough to bruise or leave a lasting mark. She'd always been one to smack her children whenever she felt they needed it, whether it be on the hand or on the back of their bottoms. Lightly, not forceful enough to do damage but forceful enough to get them to follow directions. It wasn't an uncommon thing and it had never bothered him before. Some parents were just like that. It wasn't a big deal.

But it'd bothered him when she'd struck him across the face because, before then, things had never gotten that far. She had never seemed so frightening than in that moment her palm met his cheek. Wally wasn't afraid of his mother. Sometimes he was afraid of being scolded and being grounded and having his television privileges revoked. She could be a real witch sometimes, Wally felt. Sometimes she could be so unreasonable. But he wasn't afraid of his mother hurting him. Of her physically harming him, or even Joey. The thought was absurd and made him want to laugh. But still Wally had to admit that his mother had changed over the past few months. He did not believe that his mother wanted to hurt him, but she _had_ , and she had done so on more than one occasion. It didn't seem like a conscious effort on her part, it just sort of happened. Mistakes happened. Wally wanted to forget that anything ever had, but knew that he really couldn't. That he should not have.

"Wally?"

"No," he mumbled, returning his attention to the social worker. "Of course not. My mum loves me. She loves _us_. She would never."

It was not easy to tell whether Erica believed him or not. "Wally-"

"I'm telling you the truth. My mum isn't a bad person. I know I made it sound like she was crazy and insane but she would never do anything to hurt me or my brother, and that's the truth. She loves us too much to do that." There was a moment of hesitation but he continued. "I don't want to go home because I'm scared about what's going to happen to me. Not because I'm scared of my mum, or my dad, but because I'm scared of myself. I don't love me like my mum loves me. I can't keep pretending every single day that things are going okay when they're not. I can't keep lying to people about everything anymore. I'm so _tired_ of waking up every morning, knowing that I have to get out of bed and go to school when I don't want to, or can't. I tried really hard to be strong and to keep going but I can't anymore. I'm not...strong like I pretend to be. I'm not...I just...I can't..." There was a crack in his voice and suddenly the tears were falling. "I just can't do it anymore. And it's not anybody else's fault but mine. My mum is a good mum and she's just going through a hard time but she loves me and it isn't her fault. You have to believe that she wouldn't do anything to hurt me or my brother, ever. Honest. If there's anyone that you need to be concerned about, it's me. I'm the one who's hurting everybody and I can't...I don't deserve to _be_ here when that's all I'm capable of doing. I called 911 so that someone would come get me and take me away to somewhere I couldn't hurt people anymore. Where I couldn't hurt myself."

Erica exhaled. "Wally."

He refused to meet her eyes until she was forcing him to, fingers gently guiding his chin.

"Do you want pudding or Jell-O?"

* * *

The remainder of that Wednesday passed rather smoothly, much to Wally's surprise. There were a lot of people asking a lot of questions (Erica, the doctors, the nurses) and often the same questions over and over. This annoyed him and made him feel tired, but he knew that they were only trying to understand what was happening in his head and trying to figure out how to proceed. It bothered him that many did not seem to understand why he felt the way that he did. They told him he was so young and had so much to live for. That he was healthy and handsome and smart and that he had no reason to want to give up. They would feel blessed to have what he had and wished they could be fifteen and youthful again. Wally wanted to tell them that they didn't know shit, that he knew that he was rather well off, and that he still somehow felt the way that he did and it couldn't be helped. He just didn't know why. He didn't see why they needed a good reason, why he didn't meet the qualifications for being depressed. Still, he refrained from speaking his mind, instead telling them that he had just let things get out of control and that he wanted to change things. They stationed a security officer near his bed to make sure he didn't run. He was uncomfortable by this but, as Erica explained, he was considered a danger to himself and to others around him and this was legally required for the time being. He tried to ignore the guard and just rest but this proved awkward and difficult. He yearned for the privacy he knew he did not deserve.

Erica brought him vanilla pudding and Wally ate it. When he asked what was going to happen to him, she said that they would speak to his parents and figure something out. That he would probably be moved to a special hospital where sad people go to feel better. Wally cried for fifteen minutes when she told him this, not because he was afraid of being transferred but because he was afraid of his parents knowing what he'd done. Erica reasoned that they needed to know, that he was a minor and that he could not just admit himself without their permission. They would worry about him not being home and wonder where he was. Wally responded that they might not notice right away but Erica told him that they had put it off for too long already. She would call for them if he wanted her to, or he could call them himself. Wally couldn't bear even the _thought_ of telling his parents he was in the hospital, especially because he worried about stressing his pregnant mother. She was already stressed enough and it was bad for her health. Erica told him that things would be okay. They loved him and they would understand. Though Wally wasn't so sure, he agreed to phone his father, not wanting to disturb his mother's vacation with Joey.

It was the most frightening thing he had ever experienced. Wally had experienced quite a number of frightening things in his lifetime - once he'd choked on a school lunch in the second grade; he'd faced some nasty injuries throughout his childhood, broken a lot of bones doing irresponsible things; had gotten into a (minor) car accident at age 12; even almost drowned at the beach during one summer - hell, he'd even _almost_ tried to kill himself. Wally wanted to stress that it wasn't something that he actually tried to do but only something that he _tried_ to try to do, as if that made things any better. He knew that it didn't but it made him feel better anyway, even though he knew his parents would be disappointed regardless. Still, despite all of the horrors he had once faced in life, Wally found himself more terrified in that moment that Erica dialed his father's number than in any other moment before. The thought of what would happen to him made him feel sick to his stomach. The thought that his parents would hate him for this made him want to scream and run and hide himself under a rock for the rest of his life. He knew that he had gotten himself this far into this mess and that it only made sense to contact his family, he owed them that much, but knowing this did not make things any easier for him.

As Erica held the phone up to her ear and waited for an answer, Wally shook. It felt like he could barely breathe again, like someone had grabbed him by the lungs and squeezed until he was seeing stars. The first try proved fruitless. Wally told her his father was still working and that he was likely busy. She offered to call his mother and he refused, telling her to just wait and try again later. She tried immediately. He wanted to tell her to hang up, even almost tried to cause a distraction so she would, but her lips were moving and the words were coming out before he could even come up with a bad idea.

"Hi. I'm trying to get in touch with Mr. Sydney Beetles?"

Wally bit his lip and watched.

"Hi, yes. My name is Erica Johnson, I'm a social worker here at Cleveland Mercy Hospital. I'm sorry to bother you, I understand you're busy at work but I have your son, Wallabee, here with me. And - yes, yes. He's fine, he's fine. Well, physically anyway. I actually - what was that? Oh, yes. He's fine, he's actually here with me right now. There's been a bit of an incident and I was hoping that you could have a minute to talk, preferably in person if possible. It's a bit of a serious matter and - I understand. Yes. He's really fine, from a general standpoint. He called for the paramedics himself and overall, he's physically healthy. But there are some issues of importance that need to be dealt with as soon as possible. I understand that you're currently at work, from what he tells me, and that your wife is out of town? I'm sorry if I'm not catching you at a very convenient time but unfortunately I have to constitute this as an emergency. I've spoken to your son and it seems that he has been feeling a bit depressed for what appears to be quite some time now. And unfortunately he was feeling very bad today, and felt like he was in a position to hurt himself..."

There was a moment where Erica went quiet and Wally's heart almost broke free of his chest.

"Yes, that's correct. He said that he was having some scary thoughts and that he felt like he wanted to take his own life. He took a couple of pills but thankfully it wasn't nearly enough to cause him any real damage. He stopped himself before he could do anything more and called 911 for help, which was the right thing to do. The EMT's went and picked him up and brought him here and he's doing alright. A bit shaken up, as to be expected, but he's a trooper and he's being very brave and cooperating well. We - yes, I know. It _is_ a lot to take in. There's actually a lot more to it and I don't feel that we can properly discuss this over the phone, which is why I was hoping we could have you here whenever possible. It's pretty clear that he needs some extra help that he might not be able to get at home or at school and I don't want to make any decisions for him without having you in the loop, so... Okay. Yeah, Cleveland Mercy. We have him here and he's safe now. I'll let him know that you're coming."

It was difficult to hear Erica speak those words out loud. Hearing them out loud made the situation all the more real. The words escaped her tongue with such ease that it was clear to see she had done this before, numerous times. It was almost as if she had rehearsed a script in her head before dialing. Wally knew that this was not an uncommon thing, that many people his age were depressed and went through hospitalizations and episodes like this. Depression didn't care how old you were or how much money you had or if you had a nice girlfriend. Many people went through it just because they did, and Wally had to wonder how many times Erica had seen kids like him come through this very hospital before him. He wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last. There was something both comforting and disturbing about knowing this. He was happy to know that he wasn't the only one who had done something like this but saddened by the very same. What was wrong with the world that made so many people want to leave it?

"Wally, your father wants to speak to you. Is it okay?"

The blond in question widened his eyes in surprise at the question. He was horrified at the idea of speaking to his father, considering the man had just been enlightened about his current situation, but even more shocked at the fact that he had a choice in this. It felt like he hadn't had many choices about anything lately, in his life and in the short amount of time he'd spent in hospital. It pleased him that someone like Erica was there to care for him like he needed. That someone there genuinely seemed to care enough to hear what he had to say and ask what it was that he wanted or needed, even if only because it was their job to do so. It wasn't that Wally felt he had nobody to listen and help him in his day to day life. He knew that his parents and friends would have been there for him if he had just opened up and told them he wanted them to be, but that was something he found too difficult to ask of them after everything. He was fine with Erica helping him because he knew that he wouldn't ever have to face her again after this, that he would just be another distant memory of hers and that he'd never have to deal with her looking down on him because of how he said he felt, or because of the things he'd done. To her he was just another job and he was fine with that. It was easier for him to talk to people that he wasn't close with because he didn't need to worry about how their perceptions of him would change. Erica only knew this Wally and for Wally that was more than okay. She didn't need to know another.

"Wally? Do you want to talk to him?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Wally shook his head. He felt like he should speak to his father because he owed him that much after the torture he was certainly putting him through now, if only just to tell him that he was okay and that he was sorry, but could not find it in him to say anything at all. How could he? There was too much to explain, too much to apologize for. How could he wrap his head around all that had transpired and put it into the appropriate words? He was certain, at this time, that it wasn't possible. He was too humiliated with himself to try.

Erica did not question this. "Mr. Beetles? Yes, I don't think he's feeling quite well enough at the moment to talk. But he'll be here waiting for you when you arrive and you can see him then. Just check in at the front desk when you come in and they'll have someone escort you back here. Absolutely, it's my pleasure. Honestly, there's no need for thanks. He's a great kid and I have a good feeling that he's going to make it out of this stronger than ever. Yes. My name is Erica Johnson, just tell them you're here to see your son and someone will help you upfront. Okay, perfect. We'll see you soon then. Uh-huh. Absolutely, thank you. Goodb - hm? Oh, of course. I'll tell him. Alright, thanks again. Uh-huh, my pleasure. Bye bye."

Wally raised a brow as Erica pocketed the phone. She turned to him and smiled encouragingly.

"He's coming?"

Erica nodded. "Yes, he is. And he wanted me to tell you that he loves you."

* * *

Hoagie sometimes wondered what it would be like to not have a brother. To not have someone come into his room when he wasn't home and play his video games, or touch his comic books, or steal his socks. It wasn't like he minded sharing things with Tommy. Hoagie went to preschool and to kindergarten and learned a lot about sharing with others. He knew that it was the right thing to do and, considering he loved his brother dearly, always tried to be kind when he could. But it bothered him when Tommy barged into his room without asking. It bothered him when Tommy ate his candy bars and touched his magazines. It bothered him when Tommy helped himself to his closet, to his game collection, and sometimes even to his _money -_ not that he ever had much of it. And it especially bothered Hoagie when he tried to scold Tommy for this, to tell on him, to get him in trouble for not respecting his boundaries. It bothered him because often _he_ was the one who ended up in trouble for what had transpired. His grandmother told him to stop being mean to his brother, that nobody liked a tattletale, and that if he wanted Tommy to stay out of his room all he had to do was close his door and tell him so. Whenever Hoagie tried to explain that Tommy didn't listen regardless, he earned a good smack on the head and was told to go wash his hands for dinner. Hoagie imagined a world without Tommy to be simple and quiet, if anything else, but also lonely. It was nice to have someone around when he wanted company. Despite how much he often wanted to stuff his brother into a box and ship him to Timbuktu, Hoagie appreciated that Tommy was there for him when he really needed him to be. When it came down to it, Tommy was a good brother and Hoagie felt lucky to have someone like that in his life. He felt thankful to have someone to talk when necessary.

"Sorry, Tommy. I didn't know you wanted one. Should've said something."

The twelve year old furrowed his brows and frowned. "Well, how was I supposed to _tell_ you that I wanted one if I didn't even know that you were _there_?"

Hoagie shrugged a shoulder. Not once did his eyes wander from the screen. He was halfway through a game of Donkey Kong and refused to fail this level again. Last time he had failed because Tommy had stepped in front of the television and distracted him. He had failed three times already and he was determined to get past this level, even if it was the last thing he ever did. Tommy, on the other hand, did not seem to realize he was making this difficult.

"You're such a dick, Hoagie! You told me that you would bring me back a Subway the next time you went and you didn't!"

"I was busy and forgot! I'm sorry. I'll try to remember next time."

Tommy crossed his arms. "You forgot on purpose. You did this just to make me mad, like you always do."

"Oh, like I _always_ do?" Hoagie scoffed, raising a brow. "Need I remind you that _you're_ the one who always comes into my room and touches my things without asking? When I specifically tell you not to come into my room and touch my things? And _I'm_ the one who always likes to make you mad? Okay. Nice reasoning, Tommy. That makes total sense. Forgive me for not bringing you back a stupid sandwich. I know that I promised you last time I would bring you one and I didn't remember to. My bad. I wasn't thinking about it. I owe you twice over next time, now shut up. I'm busy."

"Ugh! You suck!"

"Tommy, what do you want me to say?" he asked, pausing the game and turning to him, angrily. "There's nothing I can do now so get over it and stop being such a whiny baby about it. You're not seven anymore. You should stop acting like you are because it's not cute. Now would you get out? I'm trying to focus on this and you're making it really hard. Just go do your homework or something. I don't have time to play with you right now."

"Hey, I'm not the one acting like a seven year old all the time. That's you."

Hoagie laughed. "Yeah? How you reckon?"

"Well, for starters, you're always coming home crying about how everything is _so unfair_. Oh, I have to do a history essay. That sucks! Wah, they made us run laps during P.E. today. Not cool! Boo hoo, I'm not popular." Tommy changed his voice and did a little dance while doing his impression of Hoagie. "Oh no, my little brother wants to use my Xbox. I better not let him because I'm still in first grade and I don't know how to share. Oh no, Tommy's in my room and wants to spend _time_ with me. Better call mom and get him in trouble because I'm a brat who refuses to be anything but a brat. That's just what bratty seven year olds do!"

"I'm not the brat here, Tommy! You're the brat! Now get out! Before I kill you! I'm serious!"

"Or what? You'll tell mom?"

"Mom is the last person you need to be worried about right now," Hoagie threatened. "Leave me alone or I'll make sure that you never live to play another video game again. And don't think I'm kidding when I say that because I'm not. I know where you sleep and I will come for you. Don't think I'm not serious."

Tommy glared and took three steps back, inching towards the door. Hoagie glared back and waited for him to disappear from sight. Tommy stood there for a moment longer, fuming, then shook his head. "I don't know what happened to you, Hoagie. I know we always beat on each other all the time because that's what brothers do, we beat on each other. That's just the way that it is. But we used to be cool. _You_ used to be cool. No matter how much we bugged each other, there was never a doubt that we were still cool. And I don't know what happened or what changed, but ever since you turned into one of those _teenagers_ you just...well, it's not the same anymore. You used to always talk to me about stuff! We were a team! We had each other's backs! You used to hang out with me and you used to invite me places and you used to take me with your friends and you used to let me play games with you. Now it's like I can't try to talk to you for two minutes without you yelling at me to get out. If you wanna tell me that I'm brat the here then whatever, so be it. In your eyes that's all I am. Just a brat of a brother. But I want you to know that it _sucks_ to know that you don't want anything to do with me anymore. It sucks because I used to think you were all that, that you were someone that I wanted to grow up to be like. I looked up to you! I wanted to be cool like you. But you're not cool anymore and I guess that's just how life is. You're cool, you're a teen, then you die. If you don't want me to bother you anymore, Hoagie, then fine. I won't. Don't worry about it. But don't come crawling back to me when you need someone to cry to about how everything sucks. About how Abby doesn't like you. About how you have a big zit on picture day. About how your best friend doesn't want to be your best friend anymore. I don't care! If you're going to be a dick all the time then I don't care. I won't come in your room anymore. You win. Is that what you want to hear, Hoagie? Huh? Is that what you want to hear?"

Hoagie froze. "Wait, what did you just say?"

Tommy did not like that answer. "I said is that what you want to hear?"

"No, I mean..." Hoagie shook his head and set the controller down, sighing. "What did you say about my best friend?"

"What, that your best friend doesn't want to be your best friend anymore?"

"Yeah. How do you know about that? Who told you?"

The twelve year old had to resist rolling his eyes. "Well, it certainly wasn't you, considering you never talk to me anymore."

"Tommy."

"If you must know, I heard it from Mushi," Tommy explained, leaning against the door frame. "I ran into her at recess today and she told me that Kuki was really upset because Wally broke up with you guys. Or, specifically, you. Apparently Kuki isn't too proud to talk to her sister about stuff. Go figure."

Hoagie was silent for a moment. Tommy wanted to know what his brother was thinking. It was too hard to read his expression, too difficult to gauge the level of danger he was currently in. Tommy considered running for a moment. He knew from experience that Hoagie was strong and fast and could really murder him if he wanted to. It was true that he felt upset about the lack of time he'd spent with his brother. It was true all that he'd said about looking up to him, about thinking he was cool. Tommy missed Hoagie and missed their old relationship. He knew that Hoagie was getting older and that a high schooler likely didn't want to spend time with a kid still in elementary, but it still hurt him to know that their friendship had changed so much so quickly. Still, while there was truth in his words, Tommy did not want to get his butt kicked by his brother. He valued his life too much to take that chance. Had too much to live for. He prepared to turn and leave the room before anything serious could happen, assuming his brother was ready to pounce at any given moment, but was surprised when Hoagie frowned. Surprised when all anger seemed to dissipate and left his brother seemingly deflated.

"...Hoagie?"

"I'm...sorry, Tommy. I'll buy you a sandwich tomorrow if you want it."

Tommy was confused. "So it's true then? Wally really did break up with you?"

Hoagie did not respond right away. He glanced back at the screen and pushed himself into a standing position, ignoring the game on pause and leaving the controller lying forgotten on the floor. This time it was easy to read his expression. He moved towards the bed, dejected, and took a seat on it. Tommy moved away from the door frame and took a step closer, watching his brother with an uncomfortable look. Hoagie did not meet his eyes. Tommy knew what it meant.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened. We just had a little falling out. It's not a big deal. Sometimes it happens."

Tommy's eyebrows nearly met the ceiling. "It's not a big _deal_? Hoagie..." He let out an exasperated sigh and strode over towards the bed, placing himself at the end of it. He gave his brother an incredulous look. "Are you kidding me? Wally's your best friend! Like your _best_ best friend, out of all your best friends. Not that you have a lot of friends, but, still. You guys have been friends since, like, the third grade or something! You spend more time with him than you do with your family. Not that that says a lot."

"It was only since the fourth grade. And we haven't really hung out much in a while," Hoagie defended, grabbing the comic on his nightstand to distract him. "It's not something that just happened overnight, Tommy. It's not like he just suddenly decided that he didn't want to hang out with us anymore and ditched us. There was a lot to it that you don't know about. And yes, Wally is my best friend...or _was_ my best friend. But sometimes life is just like that and sometimes people just grow apart. I don't know. I don't know what you want me to tell you, honestly. It is what it is. Wally and I - and everyone else- aren't friends anymore, at least for the time being. That might change in the future, I don't know. But it was his decision to nullify our friendship and there's not much we can really do about it right now. I can't _make_ him be my friend. That wouldn't be cool."

"Ditching you isn't cool either."

"He didn't ditch us."

"Well, why would he want to stop being your friend after so long? I thought you guys were his _only_ friends. What's he got left?"

Hoagie shrugged. "He's got his reasons and I've got to respect them. He's been going through a hard time and he's been really stressed out and - wait, I don't even need to be telling you this. This isn't any of your business. Look, I appreciate you trying to talk to me about this, Tommy. Really, I do. You're a good brother and I don't give you enough credit for that, and I'm sorry. I know that I've been a jerk to you for a while, and especially the past couple of days. I've been really stressed out about high school and everything and I just get so distracted that I forget that you need me to be your big brother sometimes. Especially because of this Wally issue, which we're _working_ on. I'll try to do better and I'll try not to shut you out so much anymore. You don't deserve that. You deserve better things."

"Like Subway?"

"Like Subway. Now get out of my room. I'm going to take a nap."

Tommy smiled. "I knew you still had some of that cool left in you somewhere, Hoags."

Hoagie smiled too. "I love you, Tommy. But, seriously, get out of my room or I'll kill you."


	5. five

To say that Wally was nervous awaiting his father's arrival at the hospital would be more than an understatement. Not once during those forty-five minutes did his heart stop beating so rapidly within the confines of his chest. It felt as though it was trying to break free, from beneath the expansive cage of ribs, and escape. Wally understood this feeling, as it was one that he shared as well. He knew that things had gone far enough and that there was no chance of getting out of this situation now, but still he fantasized about the idea of escaping. About saying "never mind" and retrieving his belongings and leaving the hospital without even a look back over his shoulder, not having to worry about any repercussions. It wasn't realistic but it _was_ ideal. What was more realistic was to picture him running, to have hospital staff following after him closely. Perhaps he'd hop into a taxi and race away to somewhere they couldn't find him. More likely, he would be caught by security and put into custody. To make things more dramatic, they'd tackle him like football players and tranquilize him so that he couldn't fight back. Maybe they'd secure him in a straight jacket and carry him off to a room of white. That was something he'd seen in movies. Wally knew his thoughts were getting out of hand yet couldn't help to have them. Was he officially one of those people? Was he actually insane? Or maybe the craziest thing was thinking that this was his only option, to have to put himself and everyone around him through this never-ending maze of uncertainty. He did not regret calling for help as he knew that he had been in danger of losing himself, and already had, but he did regret the fact that this wasn't just his problem anymore. He had made it everyone's. He didn't want it to be everyone's.

"Everything will be fine," Erica told him. "You'll see."

Wally tried to believe her encouraging words but struggled to. It wasn't that he expected her to lie to him. He trusted her. She had helped him immensely during his limited time spent at Cleveland Mercy Hospital. She had been the kindest. If there was anyone that Wally trusted in a place like this, it was her. But her gentle touches and consoling words did little to ease the nerves he felt as he awaited his father. Calling him had been hard enough, having her explain what had happened to him even worse, but knowing that he would very soon come face to face with his father made him feel ill. He'd managed to dodge an awkward conversation over the phone but now would have no way to hide. What was he to say? What could he really do? Would his father understand or would he hate him? Wally took into account what Erica had told him when she'd hung up the phone and decided the latter was most unlikely. Of course his father wouldn't hate him, but he would still be disappointed for what he had done. Sometimes Wally preferred his parents to be angry with him, rather than disappointed. Knowing that he had disappointed them cut him deep, and hurt more than anything. No, his father would not hate him. But he would be disappointed and knowing that, to Wally, was even worse.

Sydney Beetles had never been much of a "cool" dad, at least in Wally's eyes. He had been loving and sweet and kind, but he was often embarrassing and tried too hard. He had too many bad jokes. Wally loved his father to the moon and back and enjoyed spending time with him, enjoyed having him around. But he did not think he was all that funny nor entertaining. However, what he lacked in suave he more than made up for in love and support, and Wally told himself that meeting his dad after this incident should be the least of his concerns. Sure, his father would not be happy with him, but he was likely working himself too much over the thought of it. Everything would be okay. His father would be okay. His mother, on the other hand? Wally physically had to shake his head to rid his mind of the thought. It wasn't something he wanted to think about just yet. He would take things as they came, one step at a time. One heart attack at a time.

He had been lying there, eyes closed, thinking of how much he wanted a cheeseburger and a soda when someone opened the curtain. Startled by the sound, Wally opened his eyes to see who had come by. His father was standing there, quietly staring, hand still gripping the blue material that hung from the ceiling. His expression was blank and unreadable. It was frightening. For a moment they looked at each other, met each other's eyes in an explosion of green. A deafening silence overtook them. Wally sat up and felt his heart race faster than before. He felt he could not breathe. All that he had done to prepare himself for this moment failed. He could feel himself breaking all over again.

"Wallabee..." the man said, releasing the curtain.

Wally could not find the courage to say anything to his father. He wanted to tell him that he was sorry, that he understood if he was upset. He didn't blame him for that. He was upset too, with himself and with his choices. He could understand if the man hated him for what he had done, or _almost_ done. He would understand anything. Wally really wanted to scream and tell his father that he was sorry. More than anything he wanted to tell everybody he was sorry. Sorry for being so selfish and causing so many problems. Sorry to have treated everyone so awfully because of the way he'd let his emotions overtake him. Sorry because he'd blamed everyone around for that. Sorry because he had lost control of himself and had nearly done something immensely regrettable. For all the mistakes he'd consciously made. For so many things he was sorry. All he wanted to do was tell the universe that was what he felt because in that moment it was the only feeling his brain could register. It was the only thing that was important.

He tried but couldn't.

Wally's father surprised him by stepping forward and enveloping him in an embrace, stronger than any he'd ever given him before. For a few moments the boy remained still, trying hard to understand what was happening and how he was supposed to react in this situation. It was shockingly difficult. He had never felt so ashamed to see his father, to have him close like this. To be secure in his arms. He didn't deserve that. Part of him wanted to fight it, to pull away and disappear somewhere that his father could never look at him again. Where he could never waste his time. Even still, despite this, an overwhelming sense of calm overcame him and left him feeling _relieved_. Never once had he felt more safe than in that moment, in his father's arms, hidden from the world. Wally shifted and wrapped around his father, holding him tightly. He remembered suddenly how to breathe.

For some time they remained that way, simply embracing one other. Relishing in the assurance of each other's presence.

Wally only realized he was crying when his father pulled away and he caught sight of the moist patch of fabric at his shoulder. He'd left his shirt tear stained and wrinkled. When he looked up to meet his father's gaze, he noticed the man's eyes, too, were wet and glossy. He had never seen his father like this. He'd heard him crying, once, when his grandmother had died when he was younger. But that had been behind his parents' bedroom door. That had been warranted. Seeing his father look this _vulnerable_ made his chest ache. It made him feel very small. He wanted to look away. He wanted to plead with him to stop, to not look so defeated as he felt. To not look so _sad_.

He broke.

"I'm sorry..."

"No." Sydney shook his head and took a seat on the side of the bed, grabbing his son's hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "No, son. You don't have to be sorry. You have nothing to apologize for, you hear me? I just...well, I'm just so glad to know that you're safe and that you're okay. When I got the call from the hospital I didn't know what to expect. It was hard to understand what was happening. But when they said your name I got so scared. I could hardly hear what she was telling me. I had to ask a few times just to make sure I was hearing correctly, that you were okay. That you were still here. It was so hard..." He looked straight into his son's eyes and again shook his head. "I don't care about anything else. Nothing else matters except that you're okay and that we've still got you. That's all that's important now. Do you understand?"

Wally sobbed. "I'm sorry...I'm still sorry..."

His father grabbed him by the shoulder and leaned over, pulling him into another quick embrace. Wally clung to him like a koala would a tree, burying his face in the crook of his arm, pretending to disappear. Erica, who was well aware of the boy's father's arrival, peeked her head in to offer the man a sympathetic smile before pulling the curtain shut, allowing them to have their privacy. Sydney rubbed circles into his eldest son's back and sighed. Wally looked so small in that bed. It was a harsh reminder that he was still just a young boy who needed his father. Seeing his own child so defenseless and broken made him feel angry. It made him feel responsible. He knew, that at some point, he had failed. He had failed his own family. If there was anyone to be sorry, it was him. And yet Wally felt as though he deserved all the blame. Sydney knew this. He was determined to get the boy to understand that there was nothing to apologize for. That everything would be okay. That he would never let another thing happen to him ever again. That he would protect him no matter what. He would fix things.

"I know," he said, nodding. "I know, son. It's fine. Let it out. Let it all out. Don't hold anything back."

He didn't. Wally cried, clutching at the back of his father's shirt as if afraid to let go. He _was_ afraid to let go. He was afraid that if his father wasn't there to shield him, the skies themselves would come crashing down on him, leaving him trapped beneath the rubble of the stars. Afraid to look up and see his father crying too. It was easier like this, to hide his face from the watchful eyes. To feel hidden from the world in its entirety. Here, in his father's embrace, nothing seemed frightening anymore. There were no problems. He wanted to stay like this forever, in this one spot. He would be okay with doing that. He would be okay with his father never letting go because that way he would have to face the world never again. He would be away from the life he had felt the need to run from. He would be safe and would never have the opportunity to hurt again, either himself or anyone else. This way he'd be happy. Everyone would.

"That's it, Wallabee. That's it...just let it all out, son. Your dad's here. He's got you. You're okay."

Wally wasn't sure that he was. He knew that his father wasn't so sure either.

After some minutes, when Wally felt he had just about drowned them both, he pulled away from his father and heaved a sigh of exhaustion. Never had he felt so tired in his life. His father smiled, encouragingly, and Wally offered a grin back - albeit small and cautious. It was embarrassing to show so much emotion to his father for the first time in what felt like an eternity. So physically taxing. But still, it gave him a sense of relief to have let out so much that had been kept inside for too long. As if someone had come and opened his chest and had let the endless horrors free, releasing them back into the wilds from which they came. It was a good feeling. Sniffling, he raised a hand and wiped at his cheek, ridding the skin of the tears as best he could. His father's shirt was saturated.

"There you are. Feeling better?"

"Yeah," Wally said, for once telling the truth. "I'm okay. I guess I just needed to get that out."

Sydney nodded. "A good cry never hurt anybody. Not even a tough young man like you. Or a grown man like me, for that matter. It's bad to keep things inside all the time, even if it feels like sometimes you have to. It eats away at you, at your insides. It's not healthy. It can make you sick." He watched his son for a moment, again wanting to hold him. Wanting to pretend that he was still just the little boy he once was, innocent and sheltered from the cruelties of the world. From life. One day he had been an infant and the next a high schooler. Why was time so unforgiving? How had he missed so much? He placed a hand over the boy's leg and sighed. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Wally actually laughed. "Not really."

"The social worker told me some when I got here, but not very much because I wanted to see you. Mostly what she'd told me, briefly, over the phone. I wanted to see you first before any of that. Just to verify, with my own two eyes, that you were alright," the man said, blinking. "That's the most important thing."

"But I'm not, dad."

Sydney frowned. "You're not what, son?"

"Alright," the boy said, shrugging. He pursed his lips in thought and averted his eyes to the blanket draped over his legs. Looking at his father was suddenly difficult again. Thinking of what to say took so much out of him. Still, he forced the words out. They came spilling from his mouth with surprising ease. He knew he no longer had to lie and pretend. He could tell the truth, no matter how much it hurt, because for once that was easier. It usually wasn't. "I don't think I'm doing that good anymore. I mean, just look at me. I'm in the cruddy hospital, for Pete's sake. There's something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you, Wallabee."

Wally raised his voice. "Dad, look at me! Of course there's something wrong. I'm messed up."

"There's nothing wrong with you," the man said again, shaking his head. He gave the boy's leg a squeeze. "There isn't a single thing wrong with you. Not with _you_ exactly. I'm not denying. Obviously there is something wrong here, probably a few somethings. I know things haven't been perfect at home, with me and your mother - or at school, I imagine. It's tough being your age and growing up. Becoming a man. There's a lot of things we have to deal with in life that we just aren't prepared for, no matter what we try to do to prepare for it. And it's tiring and it's hard. Nobody said life was going to be easy or perfect. There's so much that's wrong with it. With the world. Sometimes it gets the better of us. Sometimes it's too difficult to get a good grasp on. It isn't easy, even when you're all grown up and have a family of your own and seem to have your life together. It still never gets easy. And I'm not saying that to put you off or anything, son. I'm telling you because a life where all things were easy would be so boring. So unfulfilling. Nobody would have anything to live for. There wouldn't be any point. But you do have things to live for. So many things. I think you know that. You're not ignorant to that. You're too smart to be ignorant to that." Sydney gave another squeeze and continued explaining. "There isn't anything wrong with you, Wallabee. Not with _you_. There's just something wrong. In general, there are a lot of things wrong. Those things have just gotten the better of you. It happens. Don't claim ownership of that. The blame isn't yours to have."

The boy wiped his cheek again. "I made a mistake."

Sydney nodded. "That's fine. We all make mistakes, Wally. It's what makes us human, and it's how we learn. Forgive yourself and learn from what you've done."

"I'm not okay, dad. I haven't been okay for a while."

"What are we going to do about that, then?" the man asked, tilting his head. "What do you want to do?"

Wally sighed. "I don't know. I need help."

"Okay," the father said, thinking. It upset him to think that he was incapable of doing more for his son, like he wished he could. It was awful to know that the boy had fallen so ill under his own nose. To know that he had gotten so sick under his own roof. He hadn't paid close enough attention to notice very much at all lately. He hadn't tried enough. He'd almost lost a child. Sydney wanted to be the one to fix his son, to fix whatever was wrong with him. Not with him, with his world. To fix whatever it was that was wrong. He knew he could be a support, that he could help as much as he could, but that this was something somewhat out of his hands. He wouldn't be enough. He had passed that point much too long ago. "So what do you want to do? Do you want to go home?"

Wally did not know how to answer the question. Part of him wanted to now, to go with his father and forget that anything had ever even happened. To be able to get into his pajamas and crawl into bed and call it too long of a day. To just sleep and to dream and pretend that he had never come here. Before his father had come, Wally knew well in his heart that he couldn't return. He had told Erica just the same. That he did not want to go home because he was afraid of what would happen should be be there. It was too dangerous. It wasn't a risk worth taking. But having his father here with him made him feel clingy and desperate. Things would surely change now that his father knew of how he'd been feeling, wouldn't they? Wally wanted to believe yes. Wanted to believe that everything would be fine if his father took him home and just held him, forever. It was scary how fast his thoughts had changed. He wanted to go home but knew that it was only what he _wanted_. It wasn't what was necessary, at least at the current time.

Unsure of how to say this, Wally shrugged.

Sydney tried again. "What is it that you want to do, son? What do you _need_?"

Wally, acknowledging the new word choice, shrugged again. "I don't know. I don't think I should...go home, I mean. Not yet."

"Okay, you don't have to come home then," Sydney said. "That's fine. That's more than fine. You don't have to do any of that until you think you're ready to do that. Alright? There's no rush. There's no pressure. We just do what you want to do. Okay, son? Just do what you have to do in order to get you feeling better. Anything to help you get well again. If you don't think you can go home then don't worry about it, you won't. But if you're not coming home now, there's obviously some left to figure out. You need to be somewhere. You can't just stay here. No matter how comfortable the bed is."

Wally pursed his lips again and nodded in understanding. He knew what would happen.

"If you don't want to come home, they'll send you to another hospital. One where they specialize in helping people like you feel better. Kids like you who are having trouble coping with things. Lots of things. Now, some are in for different reasons but when it all comes down to it, they're all there to get better. They're all there because they need more help than their parents can give them. It's every parent's nightmare to know that they can't give their child enough. And when they know that they can't, they have to let others help too," Sydney explained. "I'm not telling you it's going to be easy being there, Wallabee, because it's not. It may be a bit scary being there, being with other people who you don't know. It isn't a place to have a holiday. But if you think that you need to go away for a while to feel better then you should go. There are a lot of people there who can help you better than me or your mum can. Special people who spend their lives helping kids like you. If that's what you need then that's okay. We'll be here waiting for you when you're ready. They'll take good care of you and keep you safe. And we'll call you and visit you as much as we possibly can until that day comes. Is that what you want?"

The boy felt panicked. "I don't want mum to know."

Sydney smiled. "Well, she's going to have to, isn't she? I think she'd take a notice to you not being home after some time. Mums notice stuff like that."

"I know," Wally said, weakly. He gave a nod, agreeing that his absence would be too obvious. Keeping this from his mother would be near impossible, as she was home a majority of the time and would surely grow suspicious upon realizing he was missing. Yet the thought of her knowing stressed the boy to no end. He'd been nervous to have his father come but found it relieving after his father had been so supportive, rather than angry or judgmental. Would his mother react the same way? He wanted to think so. He wanted to believe that his mother would be just as supportive as his father. But he knew that it would break her heart to know that he was there, that this was happening to him. What would she do? Stress wasn't good for the baby. Her life was already hard enough. "But I still don't want her to know. I don't want her to get upset."

"Son, listen to me," the man began. "Your mother will be fine. I don't want you to worry about that, alright? About any of that. Your mother loves you, and I love you, and we just want you to be okay and be healthy. There's nothing more that we want - whether for you, or your brother, or for the baby. It's a parent's job to worry, not the kid's. We're going to do for you what it is exactly that you need done. And if you need to go away for a little while then that's what we'll do. Your mum and I will be fine. Joey will be fine. Everything will be fine, you'll see. Trust in your old dad, huh? Don't waste your time worrying about anyone else for right now. For now, just focus on you. Just focus on what you have to do, and focus on you getting better. That's the only thing that should be on your mind."

Wally frowned again. "Well, who's gonna tell her?"

Sydney raised a brow. "Do you want to do it?"

"No. I don't want to tell her at all. I don't know how I could. I could barely tell you. I could barely tell myself."

"Alright. Then I'll call her and let her know for you, so that you don't have to worry about it," the man decided. He gave the boy a quick squeeze on the leg, once more. "I'll explain everything and I'll make sure that she understands. It'll be fine. Don't worry about it. That's the last thing you need to be worrying about now. Let's just focus on you getting some rest for now. It's been a long day and you need to relax. I think you've gone through enough excitement."

"When?" Wally asked.

The father blinked. "When what, son?"

"Well, when are you going to tell her? Before she comes home?"

Sydney heaved a sigh. "Well, it's a bit urgent. Don't you think? She deserves to know. She'd be worried sick about you if you weren't picking up her calls this week. She'll probably ask where you are and how will I be able to hide that from her, huh? I couldn't keep it from her, Wallabee. That's not something you want her to come home to. It's better that she knows sooner rather than later. I'll call her tonight and let her know. And everything will be alright, so no worries, kiddo. I'm telling you not to stress yourself over that."

"But I don't want to ruin her vacation, dad. She and Joey are probably having so much fun already. I don't want them to come early."

"Your mother doesn't care about vacations, Wallabee. She cares about her children. What she cares about is her family. She'll want to know. She'd probably kill us both if we didn't tell her. Don't you worry your little head about her holiday, alright? She'll be alright. We'll figure something out. No need to worry. Now, are you hungry? Have you eaten?"

Wally, still not content but deciding to let the issue rest for now, shook his head. "No, I didn't have anything."

"Alright then!" Sydney said, pulling his hand away and forcing himself into a standing position. "What can I get for you? You'll be here a while. They probably won't get to moving you until tomorrow is what the nice lady told me. What a sweetie. So you'll be staying the night here until then. Which reminds me, I should probably get talking to her and let her know what we've decided on, huh? Let me know what I can bring you for dinner and I'll head home and grab you some spare clothes while I'm out. And anything else you might need. Just let your old man know."

"I was thinking maybe a cheeseburger?"

His father smiled. "Great choice! I'll grab me one of them myself. Anything else? Anything specific from home?"

Wally shook his head. "Nah, not really. Just something comfortable, I guess. I have some sweat pants in my dresser, I think. The third drawer. And don't grab anything from the floor because it probably isn't clean. Just take whatever you can find from inside the dresser, and the closet. Don't forget my socks. And maybe a book, if you can find one. Any book. It doesn't matter. I just want something to do while I'm away."

"Roger Dodger, son! You stay put here and I'll go fetch those for you. Don't go anywhere."

"Where else am I going to go, dad? It's not like they'll let me leave."

Sydney smiled again. "I know, I'm just teasin' ya. Alright, I'll get right on that and I will see you in a bit. Rest for now. I'll be back soon, love."

Wally hesitated. "Wait...dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, son. More than words can tell."


	6. six

On Thursday, Hoagie woke to find his bedroom rearranged. Strange, he thought, how everything had come to be different from how he remembered when his eyes had closed the night before. Had someone come in while he was asleep and moved his furniture every which way around? Without him noticing? The thought itself seemed unlikely, and even more so considering he hadn't heard anything bizarre. Hoagie usually slept a bit on the heavier side, waking for very little. But wouldn't he have noticed if Tommy had come in to heave a heavy armoire across the floor? He thought so, however realized that it was too much work for a twelve year old boy, no matter how strong he was. Which was not very much when it came to Tommy Gilligan. Someone else must have done this. But who? And most importantly _why_?

"Uh, mom? Tommy? Grandma...?"

His call received no answer. Confused, Hoagie threw the blanket off of his body and sat up. It was only when he turned and swung his legs over the side of the bed that he screamed. The floor was missing. It couldn't have been possible, floors didn't just go _missing_. And yet it wasn't there. Instead there was nothing but a dark void, black and endless. He couldn't see the bottom. Hoagie suddenly realized that his bed was floating, and that so was everything else. Horrified and astonished, he peered over the side of the bed and stared into the abyss. There was no explanation for what was happening. None of it made sense. It defied the laws of physics and the laws of nature itself. Was he in some sort of alternate universe? Between dimensions? Was he anywhere at all, or was this what purgatory looked like?

Suddenly, thunder crashed above his head. Startled, he let out a cry and grabbed the blanket once more, draping it over his head and effectively covering his body. Somehow this made him feel safe and less vulnerable. Rain began to pour down from the heavens, saturating him and the blanket that protected him. Hoagie glanced up, eyes nearly closed, and saw that the ceiling had too vanished. In its wake was left nothing but darkness, much like the darkness below him. He could see nothing above him. No sun, no moon, no stars. Only black, and water that rained down on him in thick droplets. One inch, two inches in diameter. Some bigger. They were huge and heavy and crashed over his head, forcing him to raise his arms and shield himself from the onslaught of attacks. Again, a crack of thunder and a flash of light. The wind picked up, blowing the blanket from his cover. Hoagie sobbed and knew that he would not survive the storm. It was much too powerful. He did not stand a chance against anything here. And he was right. A strong gust of wind hit him, hard, and sent him flying from the mattress, hurdling him into the abyss.

He fell.

He fell and he fell and he fell. He never stopped falling. The feeling was sickening. He could see the lone bed disappear in the distance as he tumbled down, spinning. It felt like he was in a nightmare. It was the only explanation. Things like this just didn't _happen_. Yet everything felt so real. The rain and wind against his skin, the sensation of falling endlessly, the fear. It proved too real to be just a dream. He would never dream something this bizarre.

Hoagie blinked and when he opened his eyes he saw Tommy there, some feet away from him, dressed in nothing but a dark red cloak. He too was falling but unlike Hoagie he looked unafraid. He appeared at peace. He almost looked content. Hoagie screamed for him and Tommy looked over at him, smiling.

"Crazy, right?"

"What the hell is going on?! What's happening?" the teen asked, hysterical.

Tommy's chipper expression did not falter. "Oh, Hoagie. You don't know? We're going to school."

Hoagie did not seem to understand. "We're going _where_? Tommy, why aren't you freaking out?! I don't know what's going on! I'm so scared!"

Again, Tommy's smile remained. "Silly Hoagie. I said we're going to school. We're going to be late, you know. You'd better hurry and wake up."

"What?"

"I said wake up, Hoagie! Mom's going to kill us." Finally, Tommy's smile disappeared from his face. A frown replaced it. His eyes were turned down, staring into the abyss in which they fell. They widened and Hoagie could see the fear in them. He screamed. "Mom's going to kill us! Hoagie, mom's going to kill us! She's going to kill us. We're going to die!" Before Hoagie could even react to this, the younger raised an arm and pointed down below them, watching as the ground came into view. The abyss wasn't endless after all. They were near the end. "Hoagie, we're going to die now. We're going to die now. Wake up."

Hoagie looked down just before they hit the floor. The collision was rough. Hoagie opened his eyes to realize that he was on his bedroom floor. Everything was in its rightful place and the abyss was no longer in existence. He had dreamed it. Confused, he looked up to find Tommy at the door, staring at him with concerned amusement.

"Tommy?"

The boy raised brow. "Wow, you hit the floor pretty hard there! Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just trying to wake you up. Mom said to come get you. You overslept and you're going to be late for school. Both of us are actually. Mom said if you don't get up and hurry, she'll kill us both. So hurry. Breakfast is on the table and it's getting cold."

With that, Tommy shrugged and left, leaving Hoagie alone and very confused. Why had he dreamed such a thing? Did it mean something? Was there something he was supposed to have learned? He took a moment to glance around his bedroom and take inventory of everything within it. Everything was there, where it belonged. Even the blanket, which had blown away during the storm, was there, tangled around his legs. Sighing, he turned and kicked it off of him, checking his body briefly to ensure he still had all of his appendages. When he was satisfied that he did and that everything was back to normal, he stood himself up and rubbed at the back of his head. He wasn't usually one to have nightmares like that, and hadn't dreamed anything so odd in quite a while. It was unnerving that he could remember every moment, every second of falling. His stomach felt sick, like he'd been on a roller coaster one too many times.

Perplexed about the nightmare, yet knowing he had no time to spare to think now, Hoagie began to ready himself for the day. He quickly pulled on the first pair of jeans he could find and a clean shirt, hurrying down the stairs to find Tommy at the table, chewing on toast. The boy smiled when he spotted him and took another bite. Hoagie gave him an odd look, remembering the way he'd behaved in his awful dream, and sat down across from him, grabbing hold of his fork and stabbing into his pancakes. Tommy did not seem to notice the look, and if he had he made no mention of it. Hoagie drenched the plate in syrup and took a bite, disappointed at how cold the food had gotten and angry that his alarm clock had failed him once again. Tommy set the toast down, took a sip of orange juice, and then leaned over the table, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"I've got a girlfriend."

Hoagie blinked, turning to him. "What'd you say?"

"I said...I got a girlfriend," Tommy repeated, looking proud.

The older of the boys looked skeptical. He raised two eyebrows and turned away from his brother, stuffing another mouthful of pancakes between his teeth. He momentarily considered he was still dreaming. How else would his twelve year old little brother have a girlfriend? Before _him_? It wasn't possible. Tommy was too immature and too young to be seriously interested in girls. To be having real relationships with them. He still believed in cooties the last time Hoagie had asked. He couldn't remember when that was. It was hard to think about anything besides his dream, about what it had meant. Distracted, he shook his head, trying to refocus. "Yeah," Hoagie said, mouth full. "Sure thing, Tommy. I'm sure you do."

"I do," the boy defended, looking hurt. "Her name's Elizabeth."

"You don't know any Elizabeths," Hoagie countered, laughing. He swallowed. "And besides, even if you did...why would she want to be your girlfriend? I mean, no offense, Tommy...but you're not really _boyfriend_ material. Not yet, at least. You're still a little young for that sort of thing. Girls like guys who don't sleep in dinosaur pajamas. Do you even _like_ girls, anyway? I thought you said they were gross. If you think they're so gross, why would you date one now? You're only twelve."

Tommy scoffed. "I'll have you know, Hoagie, that I am not _only_ twelve. I'm twelve and a _half_ , thank you very much. Halfway to being thirteen, and a dumb teenager like you. And I'm plenty old enough for girls already. I've been plenty old enough. I like all sorts of girls. Especially the ones that are in your magazines. The ones that you hide under your mattress."

Hoagie choked.

"Yeah, you really should think of a less obvious place to put those. If mom finds those, you'll be toast. She'd probably cut your wiener off."

The teen reached across the table and grabbed his brother's glass, taking a generous sip of the juice within in. Tommy frowned and protested ("Hey! Get your own drink!") but Hoagie ignored him, not stopping to even take a breath until the pancakes made their way down his throat. When he was finished, he coughed and set the glass back down onto the table. Tommy confiscated it and groaned when he was realized most of it was gone.

"Hoagie! You drank it all."

The young man in question blanched. "How long have you known about those magazines? And how often do you look at them?"

Tommy turned away from the near empty glass and smiled, sensing how frantic his brother had become. "I don't know," he said, slowly. He picked up another piece of toast and bit off a corner. He was having fun teasing. "I found them a couple months ago when I was trying to find my keychain that I lost when I was in your room. You were out with your stupid friends, I think, probably. I thought I dropped it in between the mattress and the wood, so I had to check. I found your magazines but not my keychain. I liked your magazines better anyway, so I gave up trying. I especially like the one where the redheaded lady is on top of the car. That was a really nice car."

Hoagie had to look over his shoulders to make sure no adults were around before turning back to his younger brother and gritting his teeth at him angrily. "Tommy!" he hissed, lowering his voice. "Be quiet about that. That's not something you should talk about in front of other people. You don't want mom or grandma to hear you, do you? We'd be in so much trouble."

"Actually," Tommy shrugged, "we wouldn't. _You_ would. You were the one who got them in the first place, and left them lying around for your little bitty - _innocent_ \- kid brother to find. Wouldn't be my fault, it'd be yours. And mom would skin you alive before she said anything to me. How could she get mad at me for looking if I didn't even know what I was looking at? She thinks that I'm not mature enough to like that sort of thing, or even know about that sort of thing. But I watch television, Hoagie. I watch a _lot_ of television. I know about pornography, and I know about what you do when you watch it."

Hoagie nearly screamed.

"Don't think I don't realize you've been taking a lot longer in the shower lately. Everyone's noticed it."

" _What_?!" the teen demanded, cheeks red.

Tommy thought it was worth it to roll his eyes, taking another piece of toast into his mouth and lazily chewing it. "Come on, bro. I'm not that stupid. And I'm not that oblivious either. I know what's going on." He waved the piece of toast in the air and gave his brother a nasty smirk, relishing in the way Hoagie squirmed with discomfort and embarrassment. "I may be twelve but I'm not a little kid anymore. Don't think I don't know that you wank off whenever you've got a minute alone. Lots of guys your age do it, I suppose. It's just sort of a thing...well, that's what I hear anyway. Once you reach a certain age, girls and sex are all you can really think of. Am I right?"

Without a second to spare, Hoagie shot up from his chair and moved to stand behind his little brother, wrapping a hand over the boy's mouth. Tommy dropped the toast and tried to shout, but the sound came out muffled and low. He struggled for a moment to break free from the teen's hold, then ran his tongue across his brother's hand. Hoagie released a noise of disgust and pulled his hand away, wiping it on the back of Tommy's shirt.

" _Eugh_ , Tommy!"

"Well, that's what you get!" the boy responded, glaring. "For being such a jerk."

Hoagie shot Tommy an angry look and tried to sound serious. "You shouldn't talk about that sort of stuff. Especially not when you know that mom and grandma are in the house and could possibly hear you. Even if the..." he once again lowered his voice before continuing, "magazines were mine, you'd still get in trouble for looking at them and talking about them and you know it. Grandma would smack you so hard and make you wash your eyes out with soap in the bathtub. And your mouth for that matter. Kids like you aren't supposed to be talking about nasty stuff like that. And yeah, I'm older than you so...so...so what I do in my spare time doesn't concern you, Tommy! So quit talking about it, it's disgusting. You aren't even supposed to know about that sort of thing. I'm really horrified that you do." Sighing, the teen returned to his seat. "And don't think I'm not serious, either. I don't want to hear you talking about those things anymore. You're too little for that. You're supposed to play with toys and read comic books, not your brother's _private_ magazines. And stop going in my room when I'm not home!"

Tommy shook his head. "Please, don't treat me like I'm six years old again. I'm not Wally's brother."

At the mention of his friend, Hoagie furrowed his brows and stabbed at his plate. He stuffed a piece of pancake into his mouth and focused on it for a few seconds, glad for the momentary distraction. With the strange dream weighing heavily on his mind and the disturbingly mature conversation with his brother, he'd almost forgotten that he and his friends were to confront Wally today, for the first time since the start of the week and the first time since he'd ended his friendship with them. Hoagie had spent so much time obsessing over the plan yesterday but had only realized now that it was happening. Anxious for this, he turned his head and glanced at the microwave, seeing that there wasn't much time left before school. He took another quick bite of his breakfast and pushed his chair out from under him, standing.

"Where are you going?" Tommy asked.

"To finish getting ready for school, moron. It's late," Hoagie replied, leaving the room. "You should finish up too. Mom's going to be pissed if you get another tardy this year. You already have one too many. You don't want to have to go to Saturday school again."

Tommy frowned. "But aren't you going to ask me about my girlfriend?"

Hoagie stopped to peek his head back into the room and flashed Tommy a tired look. "No, I'm not going to ask you about your stupid girlfriend. If she even exists. At this point, I really don't want to know and I really don't care. Stop going into my room and don't touch my magazines anymore. Or else I'll tell mom that you broke her vase last Tuesday and blamed it on the cat. She'd have grandma tan your hide for that," he threatened. "You know that. And I'm serious, Tommy. I'm not messing around. Don't go into my room when I'm not here. There isn't any reason for you to. Now, hurry up and go brush your teeth. The bus is going to be here in like five minutes. You don't want to miss it."

"Wait, Hoagie!"

The teen sighed. "What?"

The boy in question raised a brow. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What could I possibly be forgetting? I haven't even washed my face yet."

Tommy suddenly looked irritated. "Aren't you forgetting your promise to me yesterday?"

Apparently, Hoagie was. "What are you talking about? What promise?"

Groaning, Tommy placed his head over the table. "Teenagers, I swear. You get stupider every day." Lifting his head, he continued before his brother could respond to the comment he'd made. "Your promise to buy me Subway today after school. Don't think I would forget about that, Hoagie, because I didn't. And I'll have you know that I do expect to see a BLT in my hands today by 5 o'clock or else I'm going to tell mom about your magazines. And don't think I won't because I'm not afraid of getting myself in trouble. I can still work the puppy dog eyes on her because I'm still young enough - I _am_ her baby after all." He paused to give his brother a dangerous smile. "If I were you, I'd worry less about me, and worry more about yourself. Sandwich, or face mom's wrath. I have so much dirt on you that it'd take three baths to get rid of all the evidence. Do not test me. I will take you down, even if I have to take myself down at the same time. It'd be worth it in order to see you get skinned alive."

Hoagie's expression was unreadable. "You're so weird."

"Sandwich, Hoagie! Or else!"

"Alright! Alright, calm down, you little twerp. I'll get you your stinkin' sandwich," Hoagie groaned. "Geeze. You're such a drama queen. Now goodbye. I don't want to see your face right now. Hurry up and go get the bus! I'm not going to walk you to school again today. I don't have time for that. I'm already going to be late myself. If you get stuck here, you're just going to have to deal with it." And with that, the teenager shuffled up the stairs and into the bathroom to prepare himself for the day that awaited him. Hoagie had a feeling that it was not going to be an easy one.

And he was right.

* * *

At school, Hoagie met up with Nigel and Abby during lunch. The food at the cafeteria at Gallagher High was never particularly good, but it seemed particularly horrid that day. Hoagie tried to eat it anyway because he was hungry enough, but found that it left a bad taste in his mouth and a bad feeling in his already sensitive stomach from that morning. He tossed the tray of food into the trash can and rejoined his friends at the table, coming to sit beside Abby. She and Nigel were in the middle of a deep conversation about Tom Cruise and action movies. Hoagie tried to pay attention but found he was a bit too distracted to really focus on who was saying what. Apparently his mind had become so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed his friends calling his name until Abby was giving his shoulder a nudge.

Confused, he turned to her. "What?"

"You still with us? Or is your head on planet Mars right now?"

Hoagie breathed a sigh. "Sorry, guys. I guess I'm just a little bit distracted today. I've got a lot on my mind right now. You know, with the whole Wally situation and everything." He paused to fold his arms over the table and lay down his head. "Plus, I didn't really sleep that good. I had a really weird dream last night and it sort of made me feel weird. I don't really know what to even think of it. I just woke up feeling really disturbed..."

"A weird dream?" Nigel asked, raising a brow tentatively. "What sort of weird dream?"

Abby leaned forward with an air of caution. "Yeah. What sort of weird dream? And when you say that you woke up feeling...ehr... _.disturbed_...do you mean like...?" She titled her head and raised a brow, mimicking Nigel's expression. "Well, you know what I mean. Was this one of _those_ dreams? Because, no offense, Gilligan - love you and all, want to support you - but I'd really prefer not to hear what sort of disturbing things you been thinkin' about when you're in your bed at night. Mm-mm! Not when I just had lunch. Or what I could stomach of it, anyway. Swear, the food here just keeps gettin' worse and worse everyday. Didn't think it was even possible. Damn shame..."

The teen in question looked mildly horrified. "What? No! _Ew_! Come on! This isn't about my wet dreams."

Nigel smiled in relief. "Oh, good. For a second there I thought things were about to get awkward."

"Things are already awkward enough now, thank you very much," Hoagie chided, once again dropping his head. "Like I would really want to talk to you guys about that sort of thing. First of all, that stuff is private! I wouldn't tell a soul about any of that in a million years! Do you even know how embarrassing that would be? Especially in the middle of the _cafeteria_? And second of all, I wouldn't dare tell a _girl_ about it. Ugh! Just the thought makes me want to crawl under a rock and die. I'm disturbed just _thinking_ about thinking about it. And here I was trying to forget the fact that my twelve year old brother had a very winded discussion with me this morning about pornography and masturbation. God! What is _wrong_ with this society? And why am I talking so loud?"

Abby made a face. "Tommy?"

Hoagie sat upright and unfolded his arms, nodding. "Yeah, Tommy. Apparently he's been sneaking into my room and looking at my magazines when I'm not home. The little perv..." A second after he said this, he realized his mistake. Flustered, he tried to explain. "Uh, I mean...not my magazines...I mean...just my _sports_ magazines. You know! Like for sports. Basketball, soccer. Baseball..." He threw in a nervous laugh for good measure. "Gotta love that, all of that. Gotta love sports! Am I right?"

"Yeah," the girl said. "You love sports and I'm the Queen of England. Get real, son. We all know where you hide those things. We've all seen them."

Nigel nodded. "Yeah. No offense, but hiding pornographic magazines under your mattress is so 7th grade. It's too obvious. You really should reevaluate where you put those things. Might I suggest a chest or a box that you can secure with a lock? Or a secret compartment? If you keep them under your mattress, you run the risk of your mother finding them when she changes your sheets. Your mother is the _last_ person you want finding those things, trust me. And, you know, Tommy might seem like a little kid to you - he _is_ your kid brother after all. You've seen him grow up from being a baby. But he _is_ getting older and he _is_ reaching that age where boys really start to notice girls and like them. I know I started to see girls in a new way around that age, around the time that we all became teenagers. Whether you want to accept it or not, Tommy's growing up. He's going to be in middle school next year. And we all know what _you_ were doing in middle school."

Hoagie gave Nigel a distressed look. "I told you guys fifteen billion times already, that was just a _rumor_!"

"Yeah," Abby laughed. "Just like the one about you crying during the rainy day screening of Forrest Gump. Pretty sure Wally got a few snaps of that as evidence."

"You don't understand," the teen said, red faced. "Lieutenant Dan had no legs! His life was _over_."

Nigel stole a glance at his watch. "Yeah, and speaking of things being _over_...it's almost time for 5th period. Which means we should probably get going if we're going to make it to the I building before Wally gets there. And we still need to find Kuki. She is coming with us, isn't she?"

Abby nodded. "That's what she said. She said she'd meet up with us before then. Maybe she forgot."

"I don't think she'd forget about this," Hoagie said, thankful for the change of topic. "Kuki may have been spending a lot of time with Zeke lately, but she still cares, and she does honestly seem really upset about this whole situation to me. I mean, even Tommy said that Mushi told him that Kuki was upset the other day. And she did sound pretty alarmed on Monday when I told you guys about what Wally said on IM. I just think maybe she's been trying to act like it doesn't concern her so much, outwardly, because of what we agreed on before - about letting it be and giving Wally space for the time being. And with Zeke as a distraction for her, I think it's pretty safe to say that she's had ways to keep her mind off of this for now, even if inside it kills her. Which I'm sure it does. I mean, this is _Kuki_ we're talking, right? Kuki Sanban. The same Kuki Sanban who burst into tears when Wally was a few _minutes_ late for her dance recital in the 7th grade because she thought he hated her. Even if she and Wally haven't been as close with each other as they used to be in middle school - for obvious reasons - you know they're still Wally and Kuki. And if there's anyone that Kuki gives a shit about, it's Wally. It's always been Wally."

"You do have a point there," Nigel said, rising from the table. "We'd better go find her, then. We've only got seven minutes."

Hoagie rose. "I'll just call her phone and tell her to meet us there. The sooner we get there the better chance we have for this plan actually working."

Abby grabbed hold of her binder and book bag and began to lead the way out of the cafeteria, eyes scanning over the crowd briefly in search of their Japanese friend. She was nowhere in sight. Hoagie fished the cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Kuki's number, holding it up to his ear and listening to the dial tone. He waited as he walked through the halls for an answer. He only got one from the answering machine. Sighing, he shook his head and hung up the phone, deciding not to leave a message. Nigel flashed him a look and Hoagie shrugged.

"No answer."

"She's probably busy," the Brit suggested, fighting a sigh. "Maybe she'll call back."

Hoagie frowned. "I'll just text her and let her know we're heading over there, just in case. She might be in the bathroom or something." Confident that their friend had gotten preoccupied with other matters, the teen typed up a quick message and sent it her way, hoping that she would receive it before it was too late. He wanted her to be there, and knew that she wanted to be there, but did not want to have to wait and postpone the impromptu meeting with Wally if they could avoid doing so at all costs. Every day that passed, a longer rift between the friends grew, and Hoagie knew quite well that in this case time was of the essence. "Alright, it's sent."

"You know, I always get really bad cell reception when I'm in this building," Nigel shared. "This entire campus is a mobile hell hole."

Abby hummed in agreement. "Mm, you can say that again. It's like the school got tower blockers or something, because half the time I can't even get my internet searches to load. Let alone anything on Facebook. Not that that's really a bad thing." She continued to lead the two out of the H building and into the courtyard, approaching the I building, where their Australian friend had his Spanish class. "Damn, it's sunny out here. Can't wait for it to really be summertime. We're hitting the beach, baby! The first day, no excuses. Been waitin' too long for this weather to get warm enough. As soon as I'm 18, I'm moving to Jamaica! Feel free to come with if you wanna. Gonna need some nerds to hold up my leaves and fan me when it's too hot."

"Funny," Nigel said, flashing her a look of feigned annoyance. "If you're going to Jamaica, I'm going to Cabo. Better nachos there."

"Yeah, I'm inclined to agree with Nigel on this one," Hoagie muttered with a nod of agreement. "Much better food in Mexico."

"Ain't about the food," Abby said, shaking her head. "But ain't surprised you _made_ it about the food." She led the boys the remainder of the way through the courtyard, pulling open the door of the I building and holding it for them. They entered with quiet thanks and collectively made their way down the hallway, making the first left and approaching room I-107. Some students had already made their way into their seats, a chatter amongst them. Two more students filed in as the trio reached the door, peeking inside. The blond they searched for was nowhere to be found. "Well, looks like he ain't here yet."

Hoagie frowned. "He's Wally. Wally's never on time for anything. Let's just wait a few minutes."

Nigel sighed. "We've only got a few minutes to spare. We still have our own classes to get to."

"I'd rather be late to health than be too late to talk to him," Hoagie said, peering down the hall. "This is too important." The teen positioned himself so that his back was flat against the wall behind him and sighed, glancing down at his phone to check the time and see if he had any messages. There were no responses from Kuki, which both worried Hoagie and slightly irritated him. He knew that her relationship with Wally had changed since her relationship with Zeke began - and Hoagie knew, first hand, that it was something that made Wally feel bad. The Australian had had feelings for the girl since they were children and she had been too oblivious to figure it out, him too terrified to admit it. Wally wanted to be happy for Kuki, and was, but it hurt him to see her with Zeke every day. Wally already had become distant by the time Zeke came into the picture, but it really caused Kuki and Wally to drift apart more so than any of the others. Kuki was often preoccupied with spending time with her boyfriend, and Wally was too heartbroken to see her even when she wasn't. He avoided her at all costs, even if that meant avoiding the group as a whole. Hoagie wanted Kuki to be there so that Wally could see that she still cared about him, as they all did, when they spoke to him. But neither Wally nor Kuki had shown and this made Hoagie feel stressed. He wanted things to go perfectly and for things to return to normal, as they had been some time before. Still, even Hoagie wasn't foolish enough to believe things would go perfectly.

But was it really too much for him to hope for anyway?

Apparently not. As if on cue, Kuki approached with a bundle of books in her hands. She was dressed in a large gray sports sweater, Gallagher High written over the chest. For a moment Hoagie didn't even recognize her, but when she stopped in front of them and peered inside the classroom, he caught sight of her face and realized it was her. She had shown after all, and clearly had had to run to get here on time as she looked out of breath.

"Kuki! Hey, I thought you weren't going to make it. I was calling you."

"Sorry, my phone died. But of course I was going to make it! I'm not going to miss our talk with Wally. Where is he?"

Abby answered for her. "He ain't here. Not yet anyway. That Zeke's sweater?"

Kuki glanced down at the sweater, which carried on well past her waistline, and nodded. It'd been a long time since she had worn something that didn't fit her right. "Yeah. He let me borrow it because I spilled some chocolate milk on mine earlier. Isn't he just the sweetest?"

"Yes, he's very sweet." Nigel responded, nodding his head. "But maybe we should try to ambush Wally after school instead? We're going to be late."

Hoagie frowned. "No... you guys can go. I'm going to stay and wait for him. We still have a couple minutes. This is important."

"It is. But he might not show, you know," Nigel said. "Chances are he knows we're going to be waiting for him."

"How would he know that? It's not like we told anyone what our plan was. It's been days. If he would have expected us to show up, he probably would've assumed it'd happen already." Hoagie crossed his arms over his chest and did not budge even an inch. "There's no way he'd know."

"Well, I'll give him another minute. But if he doesn't show, I have to get going. I have something important to turn in and my class is all the way on the other side of campus. Ms. Brown won't accept assignments that are turned in late. Even two minutes late. She's cruel like that."

Abby sighed. "Yeah. I hate to say it, but if this kid don't show soon, we all should get going. We'll have more chances to talk to him. I ain't gonna get no detention for being late. Not again." She shook her head and glanced down the hall again. "Besides, if he's gonna come all late, we won't even have time to talk to him anyway. And the whole point of this was to talk to him."

"I don't care about detention," Hoagie replied, uncrossing his arms when he spotted a familiar face approaching. "Hey! Trevor!"

Trevor, a tall redhead with a face dotted with freckles, smiled and stopped. "Hey, Hoagie. Hey, Hoagie's friends. What's up?"

"We're looking for Wally. Have you seen him today?"

"No, I don't think so. If he's not in class yet then I don't know where he is. He was here yesterday though."

Hoagie swore under his breath, then smiled. "Alright, thanks. Hey, if he shows up, could you do me a favor and tell him something for me?"

Trevor nodded. "Sure. What's the message?"

"Just..." Hoagie paused to look at the others. Abby was quietly watching. Nigel looked nervous and impatient to get to class. Kuki looked oddly tired. "Can you just tell him that we..." Again, there was a pause, this time as Hoagie thought about what he should say, or if he should say anything at all. Even if they were looking for Wally, and he knew it, would he care? Would that make him want to speak to them? Or would it make him try to avoid them even harder? So far he'd been doing a good job of that, but there was no telling just how far he could take it. Hoagie didn't want his friend to disappear completely. Perhaps their original plan of surprising him when he least expected it was still the best option. "Actually, never mind. Don't tell him anything, okay? Don't even tell him we were here."

Trevor seemed to understand this and nodded again, giving them all a salute. "Sure thing. Don't worry. I won't say anything."

"Thanks, man."

"No problem. Have a good class, guys. I'm gonna get in there." Trevor offered Hoagie a fist bump and then disappeared into the room.

"Alright, see you." After bidding goodbye to his friend, Hoagie sighed and looked back at the others, who looked as disappointed as he felt. He was about to open his mouth to say something else when he spotted a head of blonde in the corner of his eye. Thinking it to be Wally, he turned, only to realize it was just some random kid passing by. Feeling even more disappointed than before, he frowned and shook his head. If they were still going to have a talk with Wally, it would unfortunately have to wait. They weren't going to get that lucky today. "Alright, I don't think he's gonna show. We can go."

Nigel gently nudged Hoagie's arm. "Hey, I'm sure he'll turn up eventually. Maybe we'll catch him after class."

"Yeah! Maybe he's just in the little boy's room!" Kuki suggested. "I'm sure he's fine. Right?"

Hoagie nodded and began walking down the hall. "Yeah. Or at least let's hope so, anyway."

* * *

After his dad left, Wally spent his time staring off into space. His mother had once told him he could become anything he wanted to be if only he tried hard enough. When he was Joey's age, he'd turned into a dinosaur and destroyed a few Lego cities. He'd also been a ringmaster and a lion tamer and even a lion. Once, for a whole week, he'd become a dragon, flying around and breathing out fire. Of course he'd never actually produced flames or grown scales or real wings. He'd never actually soared through the sky, but jumped off of couches and other high places that his mother would have scolded him for if she'd caught him. But at that age, playing pretend never really felt like playing. It had all felt so real. He could remember so vividly the way he felt when he was rocketed into the stars dressed in an astronaut's helmet. The Earth had looked so beautiful then, just like everything else. Only children could think everything in the world was beautiful.

Wally wondered what it would be like to be an astronaut for real. Being shot into space for long periods of time seemed lonely. Maybe some people went to space for that very reason. Maybe they just wanted to get away from everything and everyone in the world. If that was the case, Wally wouldn't blame them at all. Maybe he'd have to become an astronaut too. Wouldn't that be something?

When his dad returned, they ate fast food and discussed trivial things until Wally agreed it was time to call his mother. He was very adamant in the fact that he did not wish to speak to her personally, but was fine with his dad letting her know what had happened. He knew that he was likely going to ruin her vacation with Joey, but that was a concern he'd come to realize was quite small. He'd ruined a lot more than a road trip already, and there was nothing he could do to change that. Stalling would only make things worse, and considering he wasn't a real astronaut and there wasn't a space shuttle waiting for him to board to the moon, there was no way he'd be able to run from this now.

She took it just as well as he'd expected her to. Horribly. She demanded to speak to him, and Wally eventually had no choice but to agree to because she would not stop screaming until he did. She didn't stop screaming after either, but at least she'd heard from his own mouth that he was still alive and alright, for the most part. Wally tried to tell her not to come home early, that she should finish the rest of her trip and not to tell Claudia, but his mother naturally would have none of it. She would be coming straight home, Joey in tow, to see him. Wally could tell she was just as angry as she was worried, but couldn't decide whether it was at him or herself. Either way, the cat had been let out of the bag and it had its claws ready to kill.

With his parents' permission, Erica orchestrated Wally's move from Cleveland Mercy to the psychiatric hospital. At first his mother refused to send her son to the "nut house", stating that what he needed most right now was his mother. Wally did not say anything to go against that, but the look on his face said it all. He didn't want to have to go to a new hospital, but he didn't want to go home tonight either. He needed somewhere he could get a breath of fresh air, even if for just one night. Eventually she seemed to understand this, but only after a heated discussion between her and her husband outside. Wally could only imagine what had been said during that conversation, but figured it was probably better that he hadn't witnessed it anyway. The fact of the matter was he was being transferred, and he was scared shitless about it.

They transported him in another ambulance. They said it was protocol. He couldn't help but wonder what else was protocol.

Padded rooms? Straight jackets? Electro-shock therapy?

"Are they going to sedate me?" he asked suddenly, glancing up at the lady in the back with him. His dad was following in a car behind them.

The lady smiled. "I don't think they'd ever sedate anyone who didn't absolutely need to be for their own safety."

"Oh. But I don't need to be sedated, right?"

"I don't think you have to worry about that. I know this is probably going to be a scary thing, but forget what you've seen on TV, okay? There are good people there. They're going to help you get better. They're not going to hurt you. That's not what anyone is there for." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Just try to make the most of it. It might not be easy - in fact, it's probably not going to be. But we have facilities like this for a reason. And that reason is to help people like you, so don't worry. You're going to be fine."

"Okay."

She smiled again as the ambulance came to a stop. "Good. You ready?"

He wanted to say no, but there was no point. He could already see the sign: Lakewood Behavioral Hospital. The letters were staring right at him.

"Wally?"

"Yeah," he answered, giving a nod. "Yeah. I'm ready."


	7. seven

"So...what are you in for?"

Drug possession. Money laundering. Kidnapping. Highway robbery. First degree murder. All suggested crimes worthy of a jail sentence. Wally couldn't ever imagine himself doing any of those things, unless you counted suicide as murder (since technically he was trying to kill _someone,_ that someone just happened to be himself). But not really, because he hadn't done much at all. He'd only tried to try. This is what he kept telling himself in his head as he shrugged, feeling uncomfortable by the interrogation. Alex seemed like a nice enough kid, but he asked too many personal questions, and he seemed to think that Wally had done something truly awful. For a second Wally told himself that nobody who had done anything that awful would be in a place like this. That's what juvenile detention centers were for. Real jail. But then he had the thought that perhaps some of the people in here were criminally insane. Alex had a creepy smile. Wally wondered if maybe he was the murderer instead.

"Uh...I don't know."

"You don't?" Alex tilted his head and blinked, not sounding surprised. "Do you have blackouts?"

"Blackouts?"

"Yeah! Like when you can't remember nothin'. Like maybe you did something bad and you don't even realize you did it."

Wally shook his head. "No. I don't have blackouts."

"Oh. So then why don't you know why you're here? Your parents stick you here against your will or something?"

"I'm not here against my will. At least, I don't think I am."

Alex pursed his lips. "Hmm. Not many people come here because they want to. But I guess that's okay! It's a good place. Sometimes it's even better than out there. And people here are nice. They can help you." There was a momentary pause as he thought to himself. "Except for Gertrude - she's a real monster. Watch out for her."

Wally raised a brow. "Who's Gertrude?"

"She's the oversee-er of this place. She's horrible. Legally they're not supposed to put their hands on us unless it's to restrain us for safety reasons, but she isn't afraid to break the law. I saw her grab a kid by the hair once." Alex lied back and rested his head on his pillow. "Pulled a good chunk of it out, too. Poor girl had to shave her head clean after so that it would grow back properly."

"What?"

"Yeah. Crazy stuff, right? And get this-," the teen lowered his voice to a whisper. "I heard she hit a kid so hard once that he died. Lakewood had to lie and say he escaped and ran away so that his parents wouldn't get suspicious. But he never left. He was buried out in the courtyard. She murdered him. And I wouldn't be surprised if she did it again."

Wally's eyes widened in horror, but before he could even say anything to that, a girl approached, knocking quietly on the door of the shared bedroom.

"Hey, new kid. Sucks to be you. You got paired with this loser for a roommate."

"Hey!" Alex said, sitting up. "Shut up, you don't know anything. He's lucky to have me."

The girl laughed and leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms. "Yeah? I know you're a compulsive liar. And you like scaring the crap out of the fresh meat." After giving the boy a teasing glare, she turned to Wally. "Don't listen to anything he tells you. He's just trying to scare you. There are no ghosts here. We don't eat mud. We have hot water. And they _do_ give us phone privileges."

"Oh." Wally glanced at Alex and then back at the girl. "Okay..."

"Would you get out of here? I'm not trying to scare him. I'm just trying to give him advice so that he settles in easily."

"Uh-huh. Did you tell him about Gertrude?"

Alex shook his head. When the girl looked to Wally for an answer, he nodded.

"Okay." Sighing, the girl went on. "Gertrude doesn't exist, so don't even worry about her. Alexander here just likes screwing with people."

"And _screwing_ people too," Alex replied, giving her a wink. "Let me know when you're free, baby!"

The girl gave him a look of disgust and rolled her eyes. "Ugh. You're so gross. Why do I even talk to you?" She heaved a heavy sigh and then turned her attention back to Wally, who was sitting on one of the beds looking very small and very confused. "What's your name?"

Wally never got to answer for himself.

"His name's Wally. He's 15 and he's crazy." Alex smiled at his new friend. "But don't worry. Everyone here is!"

"Not as crazy as you, lame-o. Nice to meet you though, Wally. I'm Z. Hope your roomie doesn't make you go _real_ insane."

 _Z?_ Wally wanted to ask her what kind of name that was, but instead simply shook his head and laughed uncomfortably. Obviously these two seemed to know each other quite well. He had to wonder if they'd been in here for long, and whether he would be as well. "Uh...thanks. Nice to meet you too."

"Yeah. Well, I'm gonna go shower. It'll be dinner time soon. I just wanted to say hello and warn you about this one." She jerked a thumb in Alex's direction. "He's a real weirdo. Watch out for him, okay? He's only going to get you into trouble."

"Oh, please!" Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm the funnest kid around here. Me and Wally are gonna have a good time. Aren't we, Wally?"

Wally didn't say anything to that. A good time? In a mental hospital?

"...whatever. I'm out of here!" Z turned and escorted herself down the hall. "See you later, buttface. And Wally."

"Bye."

"Bye! Don't come back!" Alex shouted, turning back to Wally with an amused expression. "So! Why do you talk like that?"

Wally blinked. "What?"

"You talk funny. Are you from around here?"

"Oh. No. I mean, yes. I'm from Cleveland, but...before that, Australia."

Alex seemed to think this was the most amazing bit of information ever. His eyes immediately grew two times in size and his jaw hung wide open. "No way! Really?" At Wally's nod, he laughed and shook his head. "No way. You're lying! That's where the Crocodile Hunter is from! He's so cool! I used to watch his show all the time. Are you really Australian?"

"Yeah, I'm really Australian."

"That is _so_ cool! Dude!" Alex pushed himself off of his bed and took a seat on the edge of Wally's mattress. " _You_ are so cool!"

Wally furrowed his brows. "You think so?"

"Yeah, I think so! You're foreign. Kind of. I mean, I can tell you've been here for a while, but you don't sound American either. You've kind of got this weird...Australian-American mix type of accent thing going on. That's really cool. You sound cool. That's something that makes you different. It's good to be different! Being different is what makes us all...well, different!" Alex began to laugh again. He really liked talking. "I have to admit I don't know much about Australia except from what I've seen on TV. Like, you guys have some crazy animals down there, right? Snakes and spiders and crocodiles and koalas and kangaroos, and...well, that's so cool. I've never met an Australian before. I hope I can go there someday. Is it nice?"

"Yeah, I suppose. It's a pretty big place though. Depends on where you go."

"Yeah? I've been to Michigan once."

"...cool."

Alex certainly seemed to think so. "Yeah. It was awesome. My aunt Sarah lives there. You should go there sometime."

"To your aunt Sarah's house?"

"No, to _Michigan!_ Although, if you want to go to my aunt Sarah's house, you could! I would totally give you her address."

Wally smiled politely. "That's okay. I'm sure she wouldn't want some kid she doesn't know showing up at her place unannounced."

"Yeah, you're right. Last time I did that she called the cops on me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But I don't know if it was because I didn't ask permission to be there or because I had a machete."

"What?"

"Anyway!" Alex leaned over and wrapped his arms around Wally, who sat there stiff and uncomfortable, mind racing. "I think we're going to be great friends."

Before Wally could even say anything to that, a caretaker passing by stepped into the room with a stern look. She had obviously been working all day, at least judging from the tired expression on her face. "Alex - no touching, please. You know the rules."

"Oh, yeah! Sorry!" Alex immediately let Wally go and stood up. "I always forget. Hands to myself."

"I know. Try not to forget anymore, okay?" The woman smiled at Wally, then carried on.

Wally let out a breath in relief. Alex seemed like a nice enough kid, but there was also something about him that he found creepy and exhausting. Had he really shown up at his aunt's house with a machete? Had he planned to use the weapon to hurt her? Was any of this even true? Z had said not to believe anything he said, that Alex was a compulsive liar. He had obviously lied about the evil Gertrude who murdered a boy and ripped some girl's hair out. But would Alex make something up about himself just for the sake of scaring his new roommate?

One could only hope.

"They got funny rules here. You're not allowed to hug your best friends. We can't even high five. Isn't that dumb?"

"Yeah. Dumb."

"Yeah, it is." Alex nodded. "Well, they should be serving dinner soon. Wanna go check it out? If we get there early, we can score the good seats."

Wally shook his head. "I'm actually not hungry. I ate before I got here."

"Oh, really? Well, you can still come! You can sit next to me. We can hang out and everything. Doesn't that sound fun?"

 _No_ , Wally wanted to say, but of course he didn't. There was a chance Alex would murder him in his sleep if he did. At least, that's what he was thinking. Instead of voicing his concerns, however, he simply smiled and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. There was nothing else he could really do. "It sounds great. But I'm actually pretty tired so I think I'm just gonna take a rest while you're gone. I've had a long day."

"That's cool. Should I stay with you?"

"No, you should go. Go eat...I'll be alright."

Alex shrugged his shoulders. "If you say so! But scream for me if you need anything and I'll be right here in a second!"

"Okay, thank you."

"Sure thing! Anything for my new best friend. Oh, and if Z comes back, don't listen to anything she says, okay? _She's_ the liar."

Somehow Wally felt confident enough to doubt that. He still nodded anyway.

"Good. Then I'm gonna go. See you a little bit later, Wally! I'll try to chew fast so we can hang out some more."

"Great. I'll be here."

"Okay! Bye!"

Wally waved a hand at the other's retreating form. "Bye."

As soon as Alex was gone, Wally sighed and buried his face in his hands. What in the world had he gotten himself into?

* * *

The rest of the night went by pretty uneventfully. After speaking with one of the caretakers, Wally got into some pajamas and climbed into bed. The mattress was uncomfortable to say the least, and the pillows were too thin. He wished he could be in his own bed, away from Alex, away from everything, but another part of him was thankful that he didn't have to face his mother now. He had already spoken to her, and he had seen his father, but he could only imagine how chaotic the household would be now that his mother was on her way back with Joey. Would they tell his brother what happened, or would they make up a kind lie to shield the child from this harsh reality instead? Wally wondered if Joey would even understand. Then again, he knew Joey was smart, and he'd likely pester his parents about his brother's whereabouts until he got a real answer. Wally wanted Joey's heart to be spared, but he'd already dug a knife straight through it, so he didn't know why he was still wishing for things like this.

Alex returned from dinner and tried to engage Wally in some more friendly conversation. Wally let it happen for a while, knowing there was no way to get out of it, until he got fed up enough to tell Alex that he was tired and was going to try to get some sleep. Alex seemed to understand this and was fine with Wally turning the lights out. To keep the room quiet and not disturb him, Alex grabbed a book and excused himself to one of the common areas to read. Wally was eternally grateful for this and simply lied in bed for a while, staring up at the ceiling. He had a lot of thoughts, but they were all racing so fast through his head at the same time that it was hard to catch even one of them. He didn't know if he would be able to sleep, but he wanted to. He wanted to sleep for a long time to forget that any of this was happening. Eventually he was lucky enough to pass out from exhaustion, but unlucky enough to wake the next morning in the same place as the night before.

A few patients approached him the next day to introduce themselves and ask him questions. He didn't mind that so much. He didn't necessarily want to be left alone the entire time he was admitted, and truthfully he was relieved to see that there were other kids there who seemed pretty normal. Daniel was nice, and he didn't talk too much like Alex did. Wally never got the feeling from Daniel that he would kill him if he didn't want to hang out with him either, but had to remind himself that it wasn't fair to make such a judgement on Alex when they'd only met the night prior. For all he knew, Alex could still only be acting creepy for the sake of a prank. If that was the case, he was doing a pretty good job at it.

Eventually Wally had a chance to meet with his doctor to discuss his treatment plan. Dr. Williams thought it was very important Wally understood exactly what was going on so that he wouldn't have any concerns about anything. Wally had a lot of concerns about everything, but was assured that being at Lakewood would be the greatest thing to help his health. When asked about how he felt about potentially starting medication, Wally clearly stated he didn't want to, and that his parents wouldn't like it if he did. Dr. Wiliams told him that he would never make him do anything he or his parents weren't comfortable with, but that it was always an option should he feel he needed some extra help. He promised to check in on him periodically throughout his stay and be in touch with his mother and father to let them know how he was doing.

Later, Alex asked him a lot of questions about what went on with his doctor. Wally was spared from another exhausting conversation by Z, who told Alex that one of the nurses was looking for him. Once Alex ran off, Z told Wally that she had only said that to get him away from them, and that if he wanted to avoid Alex, he should go find something to do someplace else. Wally smiled and thanked her, but before going to hide, had to stop to ask her a question.

"What does Z stand for?"

Z smiled and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would. So, are you going to tell me?"

She seemed to ponder this for a minute, then shook her head. "Mmh...nah. Not right now. I want the suspense to kill you a little bit first."

"Fine. Can I ask you a question about Alex, though?"

"What is it?"

"Did he really show up at his aunt's house with a machete?"

"Is that what he told you?"

Wally nodded.

Z hesitated. "I don't know about that, honestly. Alex...says things. But the truth is, he does have a few screws missing in his head. I guess everyone does, whether they're here or not. But it wouldn't surprise me if that actually was true. Wouldn't be the craziest thing anyone's done." She watched Wally for a few moments, noting that she was a good inch taller than him, and he looked mildly horrified. "I wouldn't worry about it though, kid. Alex isn't going to do anything except annoy you. And even if he wanted to, there's no way he'd get away with it anyway. The caretakers here are always watching us like hawks. You're perfectly safe."

"I'm not worried about that, I just...wanted to know."

"Uh-huh." She did not seem to believe him at all. "Well, then I don't know what to tell you. Maybe it is true. Either way, you better get the heck out of here before he sees you and tries to rope you into playing Monopoly with him again. Games with him just never end. You should know that."

"Right. Thanks."

Z shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it."

Wally almost smiled at her before turning around. He didn't need her to tell him twice.

* * *

In the afternoon, Wally's parents came to visit. Wally didn't feel embarrassed to see his dad there as they'd already spent time together the previous night in the hospital. It was a little harder to face his mother, however, knowing that she was likely to be angry. But in fact, she never yelled or scolded him. She had cried a lot, and held him tightly, and told him she was so glad that he was okay, and that she was so sorry that she'd left him all alone. Wally didn't want her to think it was her fault. He'd wanted her to leave on vacation, and he hadn't initially planned to take advantage of the empty home in the way that he eventually had. It wasn't anybody's fault but his. He never said any of this though. He didn't know what to say to her.

"My little marsupial...," she said, holding him close. "My little baby. What are we going to do about you?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Oh, hush. There's nothing for you to be sorry about. We're the ones that have failed you - your father and I." She raised the used tissue up to her face and dabbed at her cheeks again, the tears flowing continuously. It was hard for Wally to see his mother look so distraught like this, especially because of him, but he was at least glad that she didn't seem as angry as yesterday. She'd likely never been angry. She had only been scared. She just had a tendency to sound angry when she was upset about anything. "God. I'm so sorry, Wallabee. Your mum's going to take good care of you from now on."

Wally smiled as best as he could. "It's okay, mum. I'll be alright. You don't have to stress too much about it."

"How am I not going to stress about it? My baby - my little boy - is in the hospital! I should have never left you alone by yourself, even if your dad was going to be in town. He's never home with you anyway. I should have known this was going to end badly. I should have been smarter."

Sydney gave his wife a tired look and sighed. "This isn't about smarts, honey. This is about our son's health."

"Well, he's obviously not healthy, is he, Sydney?" Sally shook her head. "And guess who's to blame for that?"

"I don't think we need to be pointing fingers at anyone right now. We're lucky Wallabee is safe and that we know there's a problem. Now we can work on it."

Sally scoffed. "Yeah? That's the same thing you say about everything. _We can_ _work on it_. How about you work on being a better father to your children? I don't care anymore whether you're a good husband to me. It's clear that our children have been suffering the most these past few months. Our own son has been depressed. Has wanted to...to end his own life. And it's all happened under our noses! Under our very roof."

"Sally."

"No! You cannot tell me there isn't something extremely wrong with that. I stay home with the boys every single day and watch them. At least I try to be a good parent. I won't lie and say I'm the best mother in the world, but at least I try, Sydney! But you? You're never home. You're never with them, are you? And the one time I end up going away and leaving you in charge of their safety - of Wallabee's safety - look what happens? Not even twenty-four hours later and our son has almost died. You should have been _watching_ him! He needed one of us to be there for him. You should not have let this happen."

Wally closed his eyes and took a deep breath, imagining he was anywhere but here. The last thing he wanted was for his parents to fight about something that was out of their hands, especially when they were sitting in a visitation room in a psychiatric hospital. Obviously people who came here had issues, but Wally felt embarrassed thinking that others might hear what his were. He didn't need everyone to know how messed up his family was.

Unfortunately, he only managed to tune his parents out for a short moment.

"Let's not argue in front of Wallabee, dear. We can talk about this later when we get home."

"Yeah? So we can talk about this in front of our six year old instead? Would that really be a better option?"

Wally reached out to place a hand over his mother's swollen belly. "Mum...please calm down. I don't want you guys to fight. Think about the baby."

"I'm thinking about the baby. I'm thinking about _all_ my babies. I'm worried about all three of you! I just want to take you home and take care of you and protect you. You shouldn't be here all by yourself. This is no place for a young boy like you. You don't belong here."

"Wallabee made the choice to be admitted himself," Sydney said. "At least here he can get the proper care that he needs. He needs a professional."

"He needs his _mother_. And his _father_. He does not need to be stuck in the psych ward. My son is not insane."

"Not everyone who needs this kind of help is insane, Sally. This is just what's best for Wallabee right now. This is what he wanted."

But was it really? Wally didn't know. He knew he hadn't made a mistake in calling for help during his time of weakness, but he had a feeling things were only going to get worse from here on out, at least with his parents. If they hated each other enough to begin with, how much would they hate each other now knowing they'd almost killed their own child? They hadn't done it on purpose, of course, but Wally knew realistically part of the blame was theirs. Growing up in a home that was so broken was difficult. What wasn't their fault was that he was too weak to handle it. What wasn't their fault was that he was good at hiding what he really felt, and that he never bothered to ask for help before he fell too deep into the consuming darkness. What wasn't their fault was that he decided to disappear instead of saying something.

"Why would he want this? You want to go home, don't you, Wallabee? You want to be with your mum?"

Wally parted his lips to speak but no words came out. His throat felt dry.

"Baby? Tell mummy what you want."

 _I want you guys to go away_ , Wally wanted to say. He said it in his head, but again no words came out for them to hear.

When she realized her son was not going to respond to her question, Sally sighed and got up. "That's it. I'm going to go speak to these people right now and tell them to let my baby go. I'm not going to leave him here for a minute longer. Being around all these troubled kids is not going to help him get any better. He's going to be more disturbed. This is no place for him." Without so much of another word, she marched herself out of the room, leaving the two behind.

Sydney cleared his throat after a moment. "I'm sorry, Wallabee. Your mother's just upset."

"I know."

"Do you want to come home? You can be honest with me. I want you to be honest."

Wally shrugged, not sure he knew what was best. Not anymore.

Sydney seemed to understand the hesitation. He sighed and placed a hand on his son's leg. "Do you want to sleep on it? Talk about it again tomorrow, maybe?"

"Yeah..." He said, quietly. "Yeah, I want to sleep on it. I just want to go to sleep."


	8. eight

He did sleep on it. When he woke the next morning, Wally tried to pretend he was still sleeping on it to avoid having to start another day in the hospital. It also stalled the inevitable pestering he would eventually get from Alex, who did not seem to understand that Wally wasn't in there just to make friends and have a good time. Unfortunately, after a while, his bladder forced him to get out of bed, and Wally had no choice but to join everyone else for breakfast. Surprisingly, the food at Lakewood wasn't all that bad. It was actually much better than the school lunches he'd gotten at Gallagher High. Then again, that wasn't saying much. Anything was better than the food at Gallagher High.

After breakfast, Wally returned with the others to partake in some group activities. He wasn't much interested in the yoga and meditation stuff they offered him, but he was more than willing to try the art class. It was really interesting to him how he had so many choices to make at Lakewood. They offered a lot of fun things to their patients, and the patients were never forced to do anything they didn't want to. Daniel had told him if he wanted to get out sooner, he would have to try to make a real effort and show the doctors that he was serious about his improvement. Attending groups was a must. Wally still wasn't sure whether he wanted to get out now or later, but pushed the thought aside when he joined the other boys outside for some fresh air. Eventually Alex convinced him to play a game of tennis with him, and Wally actually found himself having a good time, glad to be distracted from the turmoil inside him for once.

Z was watching from the sidelines when their game was over. She had a book in her lap.

"Nice game, losers."

"Thanks," Wally said, trying to catch his breath. "Although only one of us is the loser, and it ain't me. I beat him."

The girl stared at him for a moment, smiled, then returned her focus to her book. "Nah. You're a loser too."

Wally watched her for a few seconds, confused, then shrugged and went inside to get a drink of water.

After lunch, Wally had a lengthy therapy session with his doctor. Periodically throughout the day, nurses and caretakers would approach him to ask how he was doing. Sometimes they'd have clipboards to document what he said. But every day, he had some time to speak to his doctor privately. It was hard for him to really know where to begin, and Dr. Williams seemed to expect him to know exactly what to say. Wally had never been someone who was good at talking about how he felt, but he tried his best anyway. What else was he to do? Unfortunately, his best still consisted of mostly shrugs and "I don't know" and "I guess I just feel kind of bad". They would have to work on that. Dr. Williams said he wouldn't be able to help him if he didn't know what exactly he needed help with.

Wally found himself actually missing Erica. At least Erica genuinely seemed to care about him individually. His doctor said things to act like he cared, but Wally could tell he was doing his job more so for the money than to really help people. Dr. Williams did not seem very patient at all, and though he tried to understand, there was something about the way he spoke that made Wally feel like he was actually annoyed by the fact that he did not tell him very much. Dr. Williams wanted answers, and unfortunately, Wally had very little.

Later, Wally spoke with his parents and told them that he'd had a pretty good day. He promised he would let them know as soon as he was ready to leave, but that he was feeling hopeful that staying at Lakewood for a little bit longer would help him. At first his mother did not seem to agree, but eventually he managed to convince her, telling her that he would be coming home soon enough to be with her, he just needed a little extra time to calm down. He told them they didn't need to worry about him now. He was going to be well taken care of in the meantime. His mother told him she'd never stop worrying about him, but agreed to let him stay if that's what he really wanted.

"I just think I should give it a try, is all," he'd told them. "I'm already here so I might as well."

When he asked about Joey, they told him that they'd made up an excuse for his absence, saying he'd been staying at a friend's house for the past couple nights. Wally knew this excuse would only work for so long and, considering multiple days had already passed, it was probably already pushing it. They never let him stay out for more than one night, even with people they trusted. He would've had to come home sometime, especially since he was still supposed to be in school. Joey was too smart to not question them about that. They didn't want to tell him the truth though, at least not until they had no choice not to. Chances were that Wally would be coming home very soon, so telling him now would be pointless. Wally agreed that Joey didn't need to know all the details, but when he suggested that he may end up having to stay longer than they thought, his father said they would "figure it out."

"Don't worry about Joey right now, son. Just worry about yourself. Just worry about feeling better."

But that didn't make Wally feel any better or worry any less.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hoagie and his friends all had worries of their own. It was Friday now, and Wally hadn't been seen at school for days. Though it was possible that he was still trying to avoid them - and was doing an impeccable job at it, too - they couldn't help but feel that something was strange about that. Wally hadn't been spotted on campus at all since Wednesday. Why would he go through the trouble of missing entire school days just to avoid his friends? Hoagie knew Wally couldn't afford to miss any extra days now, and it was one thing to skip their mutual classes and a whole different thing skipping school entirely. Why would he risk further damaging his grades just to hide from people he didn't want to talk to? It didn't make much sense. Then, during 6th period, Trevor told him that Wally once again had not shown to Spanish class, and that his teacher said he was likely not going to come back. When Trevor asked why Wally wasn't going to come back, the teacher gave him a vague answer about him being pulled out of the remainder of the year for a private matter, and told him that's all she could say. Hoagie did not know what that meant, but immediately feared the worst.

"God, I knew something was going on. What if he's dead?!"

Abby smacked him over the back of the head and scowled. "Would you relax? He ain't dead. They wouldn't pull a dead kid out of his classes. They would've already told us he was dead and his parents would've called ours and we'd all be having a vigil right now. Don't be stupid."

"Yeah," Nigel agreed, with a frown. "We have no reason to believe something that serious has happened to Wally. He's probably just...sick."

"Sick? Sick with what? Why would he have to miss the rest of the school year if he was sick?"

"Well, I don't know! I'm just trying to be positive. There must be a good reason why he's out."

Hoagie swallowed thickly. "You don't think he has cancer, do you?"

"Cancer?" Abby repeated, looking like she was ready to smack him again. But instead of making a wise crack and telling him to calm down, she sighed. Truth was, she had no idea what had happened to Wally, but if his parents had to pull him out of school so late in the school year, there must have been a good reason. It had to be something serious. But she couldn't let everyone freak out when there was still a chance that it wasn't anything terrible. She had to keep them thinking positively. "You better hope not. But there's no use in thinking of all the possibilities and worrying right now. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe he's just gotten his ass into trouble again and his mom wants to home school him from now on so she can watch him and make him miserable. Or maybe he's just being transferred to a new school."

"To get away from all of us?"

"Maybe," Abby shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it ain't even about him at all. Maybe it's someone else in his family. Could be anything. Doesn't necessarily have to be something awful. But whatever the reason, instead of standing here and freaking out and doing nothing, why don't we just go over there and ask them and find out?"

Nigel furrowed his brows. "Go where? Ask who?"

Abby had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "His parents, doofus. Who else do you think?"

"Oh... Right."

Hoagie frowned. "Do you really think that's a good idea? You think they'd talk to us?"

"Why not? We're all his friends. We stop by, say we're worried because we haven't seen him at school, find out if he's okay. What's wrong with that?"

"I guess nothing. But do you even think he'll be home?"

Abby shrugged again. "Beats me. Let's just focus on finding out if this kid's alive first. We can worry about talking to him later."

Nigel nodded in agreement. "Good idea, Abby. Let's find Kuki and let her know we're going in case she wants to come with us."

"She can't," Hoagie immediately answered. "She said she's going to be busy with Zeke today. As usual. We'll just have to let her know later what happened."

"Oh... Alright, then. Let's get going."

* * *

"Maybe nobody's home...?"

Nigel turned his head and took note of the empty driveway. "Maybe. But just because the car is gone doesn't mean no one's here. His dad's probably just at work. Maybe his mum is here with Joey. And, if we're lucky, Wally too. Try it again."

Hoagie shrugged and rang the doorbell again. Again they waited, but received no answer.

"Hello?" Nigel shouted, rapping his knuckles gently against the front door. "Mrs. Beetles? Wally? Anyone home?"

Abby was beginning to think it was doubtful. They'd been at the front door of the Beetles household for a good solid minute now, and nobody had ever answered to them. This was a little unnerving, but did not necessarily mean trouble. Knowing the others (or at least Hoagie) would immediately think it did, however, she sighed and tried to reassure them. "Okay. Nobody's here right now. Maybe they went to the store. We can try again later. Come on."

Hoagie fidgeted. "But...maybe we should wait another minute. Keep trying."

"We've been trying. We've been waiting. There's nobody home. They would've answered the door already if there was."

"Yeah. I think Abby's right," Nigel said, nodding. "We can drop by again tomorrow - earlier, since we don't have school. I'm sure someone will be home then."

Again, Hoagie fidgeted. This failed attempt at speaking to any of the Beetles family members only made him more concerned for his friend, but he knew Abby was right. Nobody was home, and if they were, they didn't want to answer the door. There was nothing he could do about that now. They would just have to keep trying and hope for the best. After all, he had to keep hoping that there was just some big misunderstanding.

"Fine," Hoagie agreed, turning away with a sigh. "Let's get out of here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuki...Kuki...stop being busy with your boyfriend. Wally needs you.
> 
> (She will be coming out again very soon. Don't worry. They're all going to know what happened soon enough.)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a reboot from one of my old, unfinished fics (Operation: FADING circa 2010-2011) from fanfiction dot net.


End file.
